Imperio
by ObsidianEmbrace
Summary: As he attempts to master one of the darkest curses, Harry discovers that an old enemy holds the key to something he wants even more than Voldemort's destruction. A continuation of Crucio, and the second story in the Unforgivables trilogy.
1. In the Darkness

**Imperio**

by ObsidianEmbrace

_Story Notes: This is a continuation of __Crucio__ and the second story in the Unforgiveables _trilogy_. It takes place a few days after the events in the last chapter of __Crucio__. As a reminder, the Dursleys, Dumbledore and various Order members are dead. Rated for violence and character deaths. Characters and Settings belong to JK Rowling. Enjoy._

**I could feel dozens,  
if not hundreds,  
of faceless companions  
in the water around me.  
I could feel them,  
and sense them,  
but their shapes  
I could not see.**

**(Swimming in Darkness by Frank McEowen)**

**~HP~**

**Chapter One: In the Darkness**

"_Imperio_!"

Harry's fingers trembled around his wand, already aware that the spell hadn't worked. Even before he saw Snape's scowl.

"Try it again."

A single bead of sweat dripped past his eyebrow as Harry tried to summon the proper resolve—the _will_ to cast one of the darkest curses. But as if he was the one under the Imperius, he lowered his arm. "I… can't."

Snape's jaw tightened and Harry prepared himself for the tirade. But Sirius spoke instead, his voice strained, "I think that's enough for tonight."

"We will make no progress," Snape snapped, his dark ire directed at Harry, "if you quit every time it becomes too difficult."

"It's not because it's too difficult," Harry retorted, his temper flaring in spite of himself. "And I'm not quitting."

Snape narrowed his eyes; a clear challenge. "Then do it again."

"Snape-"

"I can't," Harry said over Sirius' quiet protest. "I've tried a dozen times-"

"Then you _are_ quitting?" Snape sneered.

"No, I'm not," Harry said, shaking his head quickly. "I just don't want to control you enough!"

"You had best learn to want it then, Potter."

"Well, I can't!" Harry exploded. "How the hell am I supposed to _want_ to control someone?"

"All right," Sirius interjected firmly, stepping in front of Snape before the professor could retort, "that's enough. We'll pick this up tomorrow."

"It isn't going to be any different tomorrow," Harry said, too frustrated to realize he was snapping at the wrong person.

"Perhaps not," Sirius agreed calmly. "But you've been practicing for over an hour. And at least tomorrow, you can begin again when you aren't sniping at one another."

"I am not sniping," Snape growled; but he was already turning away.

"Yeah, you're badgering," Harry muttered under his breath. Snape whirled around.

Sirius glared the professor into silence as he turned Harry round and gave him a little push toward the kitchen. "The Weasleys will be here in a few minutes. _Go_."

Harry went, but not without one final scowl for Snape. Bloody git. He was doing the best he could! But no, that wasn't good enough. And of course, Snape couldn't understand that it wasn't normal to want to control someone else. Stupid, greasy, badgering _git_.

He swiped a stack of plates from one of the cupboards and plunked it on the table. He crashed the second one down just as Sirius came in. His godfather raised his eyebrows. "Taking your anger out on the crockery?" he asked with a small smile.

Decidedly unamused, Harry said shortly, "I hope you told him to stop being such a bloody tosser."

Sirius plucked a glass from Harry's hand before it met a disastrous end beside the plates. "I asked him to be a bit more patient with you, actually," he said quietly as he placed the glass gently on the table.

Harry stared at the glass and then at Sirius' unruffled expression. With a heavy sigh, he lowered himself into one of the chairs, all of sudden drained. "I just can't do it, Sirius."

Sirius sat on the table's edge. He tucked his hands away as he crossed his arms, his frown thoughtful. "Most wizards can't cast the Unforgiveables, Harry," he said. "It takes a lot of anger and hate. And, as you said, for this one, you have to want to control your victim."

The word made Harry's skin crawl. He rolled his shoulders, as if that would dislodge the grimy feeling now lodged in his gut.

"And the Dark arts tend to affect a person negatively," Sirius added, as if he had read Harry's mind. Harry didn't say anything and Sirius put a light hand on his head, tilting his face upward. "I'm very glad you can't cast an Imperius yet."

Harry blinked up at his godfather and tried to be heartened by that. "But eventually…"

"Yes," Sirius said softly as he brushed the dark sweep of Harry's fringe away from the scar which had been twinging steadily since the realities had been merged. "Eventually, you'll find it in yourself to want something you shouldn't have to want."

"But Snape—"

"Snape knows it as well as I do," Sirius assured him. "But he is just as affected as you are by this dark magic both of you are invoking. And all three of us could use a holiday." He smiled a little, though there really wasn't anything light-hearted in Sirius' features.

The days had been wearing on all of them, even with Order members coming and going a bit since Snape had fully rejoined them. Shacklebolt had become something of a replacement for Dumbledore. And Bill had made regular visits with updates. Remus and Tonks as well, now that Remus was fully recovered from his injuries sustained on Privet Drive all those weeks ago.

But the visits were nothing more than perfunctory breaks in the unending sessions, both with Snape and Sirius. Especially as Snape had declared that Harry needed to learn to wield the Imperius curse on a flesh and blood person, before he could properly manipulate the streams. Not that Harry was certain any longer that they'd even be able to _find_ Voldemort in the vast ocean that was now a part of him. Without the immediacy of Snape's rescue, the task had shifted to something that seemed nearly impossible.

Sirius jiggled Harry's head a bit. "Still with me?"

"Yeah…"

Sirius ducked his head, capturing Harry's unenthusiastic gaze. "We'll continue to practice until it works, Harry and that's all there is to it. You know very well that neither Snape nor I are going to allow this to fail." His smile was accompanied by raised eyebrows this time. "Yes?"

Harry's lips lifted without his permission. "Yeah, I know."

"Good," Sirius said. He nudged Harry's forehead with the tips of his fingers as he stood up. "Come help me with dinner then."

Harry accepted the pot which Sirius handed to him. As he watched the water sloshing the gleaming sides, he said with a grimace, "Snape will be even grouchier tomorrow unless I apologize."

Sirius turned off the tap and lifted the heavy pot onto one of the burners. "Wait until after dinner, after he's cooled his temper. He was demanding I do something about your attitude when I left him."

Harry glanced sideways at his godfather, but Sirius merely smiled. "Fetch another pot, would you? A smaller one."

With a little smile, Harry did. He was just transferring it to the stove as the Floo roared.

"Harry!" Ron ducked to avoid bonking his head on the bricks and grabbed Harry's hand as soon as he cleared the hearth. Ginny came next with a big hug. The smell of her shampoo was still in his nostrils as Mrs. Weasley crushed him to her.

"You're skin and bones," she admonished as she finally released him. She took Harry's face between her hands. "Haven't you been feeding him, Sirius?"

"I knew there was something I was forgetting," Sirius said, with a wink for Harry. Harry smirked but Mrs. Weasley frowned.

"I'm sure none of you have had a proper meal since you came here..." She looked around the large kitchen. "Where's Professor Snape?"

Harry and Sirius shared a glance and it was Sirius who answered, "He's busy with his studies at the moment—"

"He has to eat," Mrs. Weasley said briskly and then bustled out of the kitchen. Sirius shook his head and went back to the pots of water. Mr. Weasley and Bill stepped out of the hearth next. Harry was trying to answer all of their questions when Mrs. Weasley came back in, looking extremely flustered. Harry ducked his gaze from Sirius' quiet chuckle.

Mrs. Weasley recovered quickly and took over where Sirius and Harry had left off with the dinner preparations, snapping out various orders. Shacklebolt came through the Floo midway through the preparation. Remus and Tonks came in soon afterward, though they'd Apparated. Tonks greeted Harry with a grin and a peck on his cheek.

With a smirk she said, "Snape's in a foul mood tonight. Have anything to do with that?"

Harry was saved from answering as Mrs. Weasley announced dinner, and in short order, all of them—sans Snape—were gathered around the table.

* * *

By the time everyone had gathered in the parlour for tea and biscuits, Snape had sequestered himself in the library—which doubled for his bedroom these days. He had flatly refused to sleep upstairs; no matter how many times Sirius had told him he was welcome to.

"Doesn't he eat?" Ron asked in low voice, noticing Harry's glance toward the closed door.

"I've left him a plate in the kitchen," Mrs. Weasley said quickly, having caught the question. She looked anxiously toward the library. "Do you think I ought to—"

"No," both Sirius and Bill answered in one voice.

"He usually takes his evening meal rather late," Sirius explained though it wasn't precisely true. For the most part, Snape had been eating with them. Bill knew it too since he'd been here for a few meals, and he turned studiously from Sirius when Sirius shook his head slightly.

"He'll eat when he's hungry, Mum," Bill assured his mother. "We shouldn't interrupt his work."

Mrs. Weasley sighed but let the matter go.

"Have you seen the papers?" Ron asked between mouthfuls of biscuit. Harry nodded. The Prophet had reported him as missing after the Dursleys' house was burned to the ground. And it wasn't until after Harry merged the realities that Shacklebolt had suggested—since Harry had refused to leave Grimmauld Place—that he should send a letter to the _Prophet_ to let them know he was alive and perfectly well. The papers had been speculating every since.

"Everyone from the minister to the newest intern is trying to figure out where you've gone off to," Mr. Weasley said. He glanced at Shacklebolt and then added quietly, "There's been a bit of clamour about your guardianship."

Harry saw Sirius' fingers tense around his teacup, but when he caught his godfather's eye, Sirius smiled in a way that Harry knew was meant to reassure. It didn't.

"Fudge's office has been inundated with adoption requests," Shacklebolt said, shaking his head. "You needn't worry about it though. Once you return to Hogwarts—reappear—I'm sure the Department of Child Services will contact you. You can request a guardian; any member of the Order would be willing, myself included."

Harry ignored the sudden tightness in his throat as he nodded. "Thanks." He'd known, of course, that it would come to this. Not that it made any difference who his legal guardian was; or at least, that's what Harry kept telling himself.

"You'll be of age in a year," Tonks said.

"It will merely be a formality," Remus added, though he was looking at Sirius. Sirius stirred his tea and didn't respond.

"Everything will work out," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling warmly at Harry. "Now, I think it's off to bed," she added to her offspring. "Harry dear, finish your cocoa and you can go up as well."

Harry's gaze went back to Sirius. "I need to-"

"Now, whatever it is you need to do, it will wait until morning," Mrs. Weasley interrupted firmly. She took the cup from his hands, still half-full of cocoa. "It's late and you look as though you need a good night's sleep for once." A reproachful look for Sirius came next and Sirius' features shifted a little.

"He's getting plenty of sleep now, Molly," he said mildly.

"He's pale," Mrs. Weasley countered. "And nearly as gaunt as you. I hardly think a few extra hours of sleep would go amiss. I assume he's not been to bed at a decent hour since he's been with you?"

Sirius set his tea soundlessly on his saucer, his lips pressing together briefly. He turned his attention away from Mrs. Weasley and with a little nod toward the library door said to Harry, "Go ahead and speak with Snape if you'd like."

"Snape?" Ron echoed. "What do you have to speak to Snape for?"

Harry had a hard time pulling his eyes from Sirius'. He shook his head at Ron's question. "Nothing. Just something about today's lesson."

"Maybe you ought to wait until morning," Tonks suggested as Remus refilled her cup. Her lips twitched. "Especially since he hasn't eaten yet."

"Of course it can wait until morning," Mrs. Weasley said quickly. She gestured for her offspring to stand. "Come along now. Harry," she said, a little bit sharply, when Harry didn't immediately stand. Sirius frowned then. But Mrs. Weasley didn't allow him to speak. "All of you upstairs," she said determinedly and giving up, Harry fell in step beside Ron and allowed himself to be shooed up the stairs.

He twisted round to try to catch Sirius' eye but Mrs. Weasley was blocking his view.

"Don't mind Mum," Ginny said as she followed Harry and Ron into Regulus' old room. "She means well."

"You don't actually talk to Snape when you don't have to, do you?" Ron asked with a dramatic shiver as he plopped on the camp bed that Sirius had set up for him that morning, his long legs nearly dangling off.

Harry shrugged. "It's sort of hard to just ignore him; he's been around for weeks. He usually eats with us."

Ron's exaggerated look of horror made Harry smile.

"Please don't tell me you like him now," Ron said, his hand poised over his heart as he pulled a face.

"He's still a git, if that helps."

Ron smirked. "A bit, I guess."

Ginny rolled her eyes; she settled herself on Harry's bad, leaving Harry waffling as he tried to figure out where to sit. He finally shoved Ron's feet out of the way and perched on the end of his mate's bed.

"How is Sirius?" Ginny asked. "Bill told us everything—as much as you told him anyway

"He's well now," Harry said swiftly, not wanting to relive the days he'd spent worrying about his godfather's fate. "Bill brought potions that first day he visited. And Tonks replenished the potions store here. Snape's been brewing."

Sirius never complained, but Harry noticed the winces sometimes when he moved. And Snape's face sported a few scars that hadn't been there before Voldemort had tried to burn him to death.

"I still can't believe Snape saved Sirius."

Harry pulled his thoughts from those awful days when he'd covered Snape in salve and shrugged again. "He didn't have much choice." It was decidedly more complicated than that, but he didn't want to go into the details of Snape not torturing Sirius when he'd had a chance or how Harry had been a basket case. He didn't want to think of it ever again.

"Bill said Snape put Wormtail under the Imperius."

Harry nodded vaguely; he'd forgotten about that. No wonder Snape didn't think it was too much to ask for Harry to perform that particular curse.

Ginny nudged Ron with a foot across the aisle between the two beds and said in an overly cheerful voice, "It's nearly your birthday. We'll be here for it, you know. Mum wanted to make certain you'd celebrate it."

Harry frowned. "Sirius knows when my birthday is."

Ginny smiled. "Of course he does. But Mum's been rather obsessed with you since…" She glanced at Ron; he grimaced.

"Since the Dursleys died."

Harry ignored the whatever it was that he always felt when he thought of the Dursleys and tried a smile. "I'm all right. I mean, it's nice of your mum to worry over me, but we're just fine here and Sirius wouldn't forget my birthday."

"And he feeds you too, I'll bet," Ginny added, her brown eyes sparkling with mirth. Harry grinned.

"Most of the time."

Ron snorted. "Hermione's itching to visit too," he said as he rested his head against the faded wallpaper. "Her parents have been anxious though, after what happened to you."

"Yeah, she sent an owl," Harry said, gesturing to the desk where her letter was curled into a neat scroll. "Said she was going to try to convince them to let her have a short visit."

The conversation drifted to lighter topics, mostly Quidditch standings until a throat cleared softly from the corridor. Harry twisted, smiling when he found Sirius just outside the door.

"Your mother is on her way up to check that you lot are all where you're supposed to be," he said. Ginny sighed.

"I suppose she'll notice if I'm in here."

"I think she might," Sirius agreed without his usual humor. Ginny stood up, looking a bit bemused. Sirius jerked his head toward the corridor, with a quiet, "Harry."

Harry slid off the bed, waving to Ginny as she slipped down the corridor and into the room next door. "You all right?" Harry asked as he reached his godfather.

Sirius' eyebrows arched in surprise; some of the tension eased from his face. "Yes, of course. I just wanted to tell you that I'll keep Molly at bay if you would still like to speak with Snape. Though I think it might be better to wait now."

Harry considered it only briefly, picturing the crowd in the sitting room, no doubt thinking as Sirius was that the professor wouldn't appreciate the gawkers. "Morning, I guess. Think he'll keep until then?"

Sirius smiled. "Probably." He frowned again as Harry flattened his fringe absently. "Is your scar bothering you?"

"No more than usual." He let Sirius comb the fringe aside.

Sirius grazed the skin beside the tender flesh with a thumb as he studied it. He sighed as he dropped his hand. "Let me know if it starts to do anything more than twinge."

"I will," Harry assured him, his mind on other things. "How many times do you think Snape has cast the Imperius curse?"

Though he looked a bit confused at the abrupt change of subject, Sirius answered anyway, "A few, I would imagine."

"Do you think it was easy for him, then?" Harry asked quietly. "When he cast it on Pettigrew?"

Sirius' face went oddly still then and Harry rushed to add, "I mean, since it was something similar—he couldn't have really wanted to do it, not for malicious reasons." He wished he hadn't brought it up; Sirius had gone sort of pale. "Never mind—"

Sirius shook his head, cutting off Harry's regret. "He _did _want to cast it though," he explained. The words were tense though his face had regained its colour. "He needed to so that we could escape. But yes, it is a similar circumstance."

Harry sighed. He didn't know why he thought the question would help. Sirius' features softened and he gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze.

"You two had best get into bed before Molly comes up here." Harry hesitated, wanting to say something, though he wasn't sure what would suffice. Sirius nudged his shoulder with an encouraging smile. "Go on."

Harry obeyed the pressure reluctantly, wishing he could figure out a way to quell the flickering unease knotting his stomach.

* * *

"_Imperio," Snape's bored voice drawled. Wormtail snapped to attention, just like one of those little toy soldiers Harry had once watched on the telly. He marched back and forth while Snape held his wand like a marionette, his normally stark face twisted with a laugh. _

_Wormtail leapt, his toes pointed like a ballerina's when Snape swished his wand and then he twirled it and Wormtail begun to pirouette, faster and faster to the whim of Snape's wand. _

_Sirius was there too. He watched Wormtail spinning, a strange desperate look on his face and then he too was leaping in time to the wand, but with each turn, he tried to grab the shorter man. _

_But Wormtail danced out of his grasp every time, twirling as fast as a tornado now, until he was only a blur. Sirius' eyes stared after him as he fell to his knees, his limp hand still outstretched. He turned his face up to Snape, who was smiling viciously down at him. _

"_You can't have him," Snape sneered and with one sharp swish of his wand, Wormtail vanished in a puff of smoke. "So close…"_

Harry bolted upright, shooting up so fast that he toppled off the bed in a tangle of sheets.

"Harrywhaazaa?" Ron's drowsy voice called from the other bed, but Harry was barely aware that he had spoken.

"Wormtail…"

How had he missed it? How had _Sirius_ missed it?

"Whaa? Harry?"

"It's nothing, Ron," Harry told him impatiently as he kicked his feet furiously to untangle his legs. But it wasn't nothing. It was everything.

He tripped over Ron's trainers on the way out the door, ignoring his ginger mate as Ron pushed himself up and called for Harry to come back.

"What the hell is going on?" he groused, but Harry paid him no mind, not caring about anything except seeing Snape. His heartbeat was roaring in his ears by the time he reached the library door.

There was no light coming from under the crack, but that didn't slow Harry. He rapped loudly on the wood. Louder when there was no sound from within.

"Professor!"

He lifted his knuckles to bash the door again, but it opened with a quick swish and a sleep-disheveled Snape was glaring at him. "This had better-" he began to snarl, but Harry cut him off.

"Will the Imperius you cast on Pettigrew still work?"

_TBC..._


	2. I Can Feel Everything

**Chapter Two: I Can Feel Everything**

Snape stared at him.

"Will it?" Harry demanded impatiently, wanting to shake the man. And when Snape only continued to stare at him, he said, his voice frenzied now, "Can you use it to bring Pettigrew to you? Does it still work?"

"Potter, what are you blathering about?"

Harry nearly did shake Snape then. "The Imperius Curse!" he nearly shouted. "You cast it on Pettigrew!"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "I am aware-"

"But if it's still in effect, you can make him turn himself in, can't you?"

Snape's mouth snapped shut. "In theory-"

"Sod theory!" Harry erupted. "Will it still work?"

"If you would cease the theatrics, I might be able to think!"

"What's going on?"

Both Snape and Harry turned toward the soft query. Sirius was gazing at them with a worried brow, Ron and Ginny a few paces behind.

"Your godson has taken leave of his senses," Snape said tersely.

Harry gritted his teeth and reminded himself that he needed Snape's help.

"He wishes me to discover if the Imperius I cast on Pettigrew is still in effect," Snape went on, a hint of snide in his voice. Sirius brought a hand to cover the lower half of his face, his eyes turbulent as he stared at Harry.

"If it is," Harry rushed to explain, "Snape can make Pettigrew go to Ministry; turn himself in, Sirius! And then you'll be free. They'll have to exonerate you when they realize—"

"Harry," Sirius interrupted in a strained voice as he lowered his hand slowly, "I don't think-"

"But it might work!" Harry flung a hand at Snape. "Snape said it would in theory. And if there's no time limit on the spell, it would!"

But instead of being as excited and anxious as Harry was, Sirius shook his head, his features drawn. "Snape would have to go to Peter… to give him such an order. Harry… it's too dangerous."

Harry stared at him.

"What if Snape sent his Patronus along to Pettigrew?" Ron shrugged as they all turned to look at him. "That would work wouldn't it?"

"If Peter was alone," Sirius said tiredly. "But if he wasn't, whoever he was with would probably kill him." He circled his fingers over his eyelids and then gestured toward the stairs, where Remus and Tonks had just appeared. "Let's let Ron and Ginny go back to bed," he said to Harry. "And then you and I—"

"Back to bed?" Harry echoed incredulously. "We can't just go back to sleep! How can you not understand what this means?"

"Of course I understand," Sirius said gruffly. "I've understood for weeks what it would have meant—"

"For weeks?!" Ignoring Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's confused looks as they came down the stairs as well, Harry demanded, "You've realized this for weeks and didn't tell me?"

"We've had other things to worry about." Sirius sighed when Harry had no response. "And there was nothing we could have done about it until a few days ago… I can't ask Snape to do something so dangerous, Harry."

Incensed, Harry glared at his godfather. And then very deliberately he turned back to Snape. "Will you do it?"

"_Harry_."

Harry ignored Sirius and asked as calmly as he could manage, "Will you?"

Snape looked considerably less murderous than he had when he'd first opened the door, which rather encouraged Harry.

"I'll go with you," Remus said quietly. Harry turned quickly. Sirius was glaring at Remus now and Harry realized Remus must have known too.

"No," Sirius said forcefully. Remus smiled slightly.

"Not your decision."

"Like hell it isn't," Sirius snapped. "I am not going to let you risk your life for me."

"I'll go as well," Tonks said before Remus could reply.

"What's going on?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Snape's going to tell Peter Pettigrew to turn himself in," Ron answered. "If Pettigrew's still under the Imperius…"

"This is ridiculous," Sirius said. "Snape isn't going to do anything—"

Harry rounded on him. "Why the hell _not?!_"

Sirius jaw pulsed. "For one thing," he said tightly, and Harry could tell he was on the verge of losing his temper, "we don't even know where Peter is. And for another Snape hasn't agreed."

Harry tried to find a suitable response to that.

But Snape spoke before he could, "There are several places he might be."

Hope soaring through the lingering anger, Harry demanded, "You'll do it, then? You'll try it?"

Snape curled a derisive lip. "Would you accept any answer other than yes?"

"No."

Snape studied him with narrowed eyes and then turned his glare on Remus and Tonks. "Get dressed," he snapped. "We will need to devise a plan." He pivoted on his heel. The library door slammed behind him.

Sirius stared at the pitted wood. He turned around very slowly, his eyes raking over Harry before he said to Remus, "You aren't going."

Remus paused beside Tonks on the stairs. "Of course I am. And unless you're planning to keep me here at wand point, you aren't going to change my mind."

Sirius' lips mashed together. Remus didn't say anything further and he and Tonks continued on their way. Sirius' chest rose and fell in the silence, then without a word he stalked into the kitchen, leaving Harry alone with the Weasleys.

Harry gazed after him, that knot of unease reemerging.

"Do you think it'll work?" Ron asked.

Harry couldn't answer that. His mouth felt like it was full of sawdust.

"The Imperius Curse is intended to retain control over a victim until the caster releases the victim," Mr. Weasley said, sounding like he was reciting from a textbook. Harry's heart thudded painfully against his ribs.

"What if the caster dies?" he murmured.

"I don't know. The curse would probably be broken."

Harry swallowed, wondering if the curse would have registered Snape as being dead when he had 'disappeared' all those times that Harry had been immersed in Sirius' reality. _Unless_ Wormtail was in Snape's reality the whole time…

That seemed too much to hope for.

"Pettigrew could be dead by now," Mrs. Weasley said softly. Harry's head came up with a jerk.

"Mum!" Ginny protested.

Mrs. Weasley was watching him with worried eyes and Harry knew she didn't want him to get his hopes up. But it was much too late for that.

"You'll feel better if once you're fully rested," she began.

"Are you mad?" Ron demanded, his blue eyes huge.

"Ron," Mr. Weasley scolded lightly.

"Well, we can't go to sleep now!"

"Of course you can sleep," Mrs. Weasley began as Harry slipped around Ginny. "Harry, where are you going?"

"Be right back…"

The Weasleys continued on with their argument but it became background noise as Harry found Sirius standing by the window, staring out into the darkness.

Harry crossed the kitchen slowly, but Sirius didn't acknowledge him. Trying not to be bothered by that, Harry said, "Snape wouldn't do it if he wasn't willing."

"I think you know how my much my freedom would mean to me," Sirius spoke quietly, his gaze fixed on the smudged plane. "And I know you didn't have time to think this through; of the risks involved-"

"I don't care."

Sirius' eyes were intent as he turned. "Do you realize how dangerous it would be for Snape to approach Peter? I can't think it's very likely that he's alone. And if he isn't, Snape would be killed instantly. Or tortured again."

Harry beat away the images of Snape's charred face even as his stomach churned. "He said they'd devise a plan," he said stubbornly. "Snape can use a Disillusionment Charm or Polyjuice."

"_If_ he can even find Pettigrew-"

"Well he won't if he doesn't even try!"

Sirius' nostrils flared.

"He already agreed," Harry said before Sirius could voice more arguments.

"Yes, I know."

The squirming guilt was rather hard to ignore; Sirius' brittle tone even more so. "I had to ask…"

Sirius blew out a slow breath. "I know you did," he said wearily. Harry studied the lines of worry in his godfather's face and wished he hadn't been the cause of them tonight. A faint smile lifted Sirius' lips as he squeezed Harry's shoulder. Harry wanted to say something, but Snape swept into the kitchen then, in full glower.

"It would have been preferable," he said in his usual acid drawl, "if you had thought of this at a reasonable hour, Potter."

His nerves taking over, Harry could only nod.

Sirius stepped around Harry, but Snape didn't allow him to speak. "I am aware of the dangers," he said, his words clipped and precise. "And I will remind you that it is quite probable that Potter would be able to find Pettigrew in the streams eventually."

"I know," Sirius said in a low voice. Snape nodded sharply.

It took Harry a second to decipher the cryptic exchange and then his mind began inventing possibilities. Ones that Sirius would object to even more strongly than the first.

"And given enough preparation," Snape went on placidly, "he will likely discover a way to bring Wormtail here. I doubt he will be patient enough to accomplish it safely."

Sirius nodded tightly, and Harry wanted to be offended by their assumption that he would be so foolish. And he would have been, if he hadn't already begun to visualize the tangled streams in his mind. It would surely be easier to find Wormtail, than Voldemort…

"Harry."

Harry blinked at the sharp tone, the waters receding as he grounded himself back in reality. He inwardly cringed at the look on Sirius' face. "I was only-"

"I know exactly what you were doing, Harry," Sirius said, the grim features matching his tone; a slow burn crept up Harry's cheeks. "Snape… and Remus and Tonks will try to find Peter. If they fail, you can't attempt to find Peter."

Harry nodded quickly, but Sirius wasn't quite finished.

"You have no idea what would happen if you tried. No idea how the streams would react, which is why we've been practicing." He planted his hands on Harry's shoulders, dipping his head so that he and Harry were eye to eye. "I need you to promise me that you won't attempt it on your own."

"All right," Harry mumbled, though it was a very difficult promise to make. "I promise," he added more clearly when his godfather raised his eyebrows. Sirius nodded once.

"Good boy." Sirius gripped his shoulders before turning back to Snape, leaving Harry with an unfamilar, but very warm glow in his chest. Snape began pacing, as he often did when he was thinking. Sirius sat at the table and Harry chose a seat beside him.

Remus and Tonks came in, both fully dressed. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came in behind them and Harry could hear Ginny and Ron muttering on their way back upstairs. Mrs. Weasley began making coffee as the others settled around the table.

"I placed a Tracking Charm on Pettigrew before we left the cellar," Snape said, continuing to wear a path in the floor, acknowledging no one. Sirius nodded though this was news to Harry. "It is no longer in effect."

Harry's shoulders slumped. Sirius let out a short breath of his own.

"Whether due to… _circumstances_," Snape continued, "or the passage of time, I cannot reliably say."

"The Imperius Curse is rumored to have been used for months at a time though," Tonks said. "Years even."

Snape inclined his head. "The Dark Lord has used it on many occasions. For years sometimes. I am, however, not his magical equal."

Harry thought he sounded a bit envious of that. Snape had stopped pacing and he shook his head as though to clear it of clutter.

"Pettigrew may still be in residence at the manor," he murmured. "He has also… on occasion, stayed at my home."

Eyebrows went up around the table.

"And there are several darker establishments which he has been known to frequent. Though it is a bit late even for Death Eaters to be carousing," he said with a pointed sneer in Harry's direction, but Harry's nerves made it difficult to mind.

The conversation began to melt around him, in a series of words that he understood but couldn't quite process. Disillusionment Charms, Tonks' Metamorphmagus talents, magical handcuffs… even his dad's cloak was discussed.

"If Pettigrew is at your house, or even at one of the pubs, we might not even need you to use the curse," Remus said at one point, which annoyed Snape, though Harry's wasn't quite sure why.

"It will be added security and we'll need it if he's at Riddle Manor," Tonks pointed out and the professor was mollified enough to continue on with the plotting while Harry tapped a nervous rhythm on the table top.

"You all right?" Sirius whispered, leaning in. Harry sketched a nod; Sirius squeezed his fidgeting hands. "You're like ice," he murmured, his eyebrows furrowing. He slid his steaming mug of coffee over, and Harry realized he was the only one at the table who hadn't been given one.

Mrs. Weasley frowned slightly as he wrapped his hands around the warmth and sipped it. He didn't particularly like the bitter taste but at least it made him feel less like he was sitting in icicles.

"Do you think…" Mr. Weasley paused to glance at Harry. "Perhaps we ought to wait a day or two; to make sure the plan is sound."

Harry pulled the mug closer as he tamped down his protest but it didn't matter. Snape and Tonks both shook their heads.

"Timing is critical in a case like this," Tonks explained. She glanced at the cracked clock near the stove. "Three hours until dawn, which will give us the element of surprise if Pettigrew is at the professor's house. Or even if he's with You-Know-Who."

"We really should speak with Kingsley," Mrs. Weasley finally spoke. Remus and Tonks shared a glance. "We _did_ nominate him to head the Order."

"We did," Remus agreed. "But this isn't an Order matter."

Harry felt his godfather tense beside him.

"It isn't," Tonks said firmly.

Mr. Weasley patted his wife's arm and even Snape didn't object. Mrs. Weasley sighed but didn't protest again.

"There are no other objections, I presume?" Snape raised a dark eyebrow.

"None," Remus said firmly; he was looking at Sirius again. Sirius hesitated; glanced quickly at Harry and then shook his head.

"Please don't take any extra risks," he said, his gaze roaming to Snape and then back again to Remus and Tonks. The words were quiet, but with a tremor that immediately made Harry feel guilty again. "My freedom isn't worth your lives."

"Obviously."

A smile rose to Sirius' lips, but he quickly pressed it away. Snape glared at him and snapped at Remus and Tonks to move along.

"Why is he the leader?" Tonks grumbled under her breath to Remus.

"He cast the curse."

"Right."

Sirius stood along with them and Harry did as well, though his legs didn't feel particularly sturdy. Before Snape could leave the room in his haughty swirl of fabric, Harry blurted, "Thank you."

Snape didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken. He merely flicked his fingers toward the front door, gesturing Remus and Tonks to follow as he strode away. Tonks hugged Harry.

"We'll take care of him," she assured him as she pulled back, which startled Harry but Sirius simply nodded.

He turned to face Remus.

"Don't tell me I don't need to," Remus said quietly. Sirius gave a jerky nod; Remus gripped his arm. He smiled warmly at Harry and then he and Tonks joined Snape near the front door. Sirius put an arm round Harry's shoulder as all three of them disappeared under Disillusionment charms.

The front door creaked open, stayed open long enough for three bodies to slip out and then closed again with a soft click.

Harry only vaguely noticed as Sirius steered him to the sofa in the parlor. He watched his godfather walk back into the kitchen but it was too much effort to wonder why. He went back to staring at the front door.

He looked up as a teacup was pressed into his hand.

"Better than coffee," Sirius said with a smile. "Drink up."

Harry obediently sipped, smiling a little as the soothing flavor of cinnamon washed over his tongue and warmed him.

"And here," Sirius added, holding up a bundle of grey fabric. "You aren't wearing socks."

Harry glanced down at his feet; he stretched his toes out against the cold floorboards. "Thanks…"

Sirius sat beside him, gesturing to the cup once the socks were pulled on.

Harry took another sip, and then absently circled the rim with a thumb. "Do you think they'll find him?"

"They'll do everything they possibly can."

Harry glanced up. Sirius smiled again. "Would you like to play a round of chess?" he asked. Harry shook his head. "A friendly duel?" He nodded when Harry shook his head. "Probably best; you might have flattened me. I'm a bit distracted."

Harry didn't have it in him to be amused.

Sirius brushed a light hand through Harry's hair. "Even if they don't find him, everything will be all right," he said softly.

Harry closed his eyes. It wouldn't be all right. It was stupid—so incredibly stupid. Only hours ago, he'd accepted that Sirius would never be able to leave this awful place and now, after that silly dream, the idea that he'd have to choose someone else to be his guardian felt like it might suffocate him.

"It will be just as Tonks said," Sirius assured him. "Simply a formality and I'll still be here. I won't go anywhere. You can visit me at Christmas and again at Easter. And we'll work out a way to have Floo chats now that Umbridge is gone. And next summer, you'll come stay with me if you want…"

Sirius cleared his throat; his smile was a bit shakier this time. "Everything will be all right," he said again.

Desperate to make the ache in his throat subside, Harry took a large mouthful of tea.

Sirius pressed a quick kiss to the top of Harry's head. "I'll make certain it will be."

The ache was worse then, and Harry suddenly wanted to apologize for being such a prat earlier, but his vocal chords wouldn't work properly.

* * *

Sirius leaned over to adjust the quilt so that it covered Harry's feet and then settled back on the low footstool, his elbows crossed on his knees. He hadn't expected Harry to fall asleep, but somewhere in the middle of a yawning sentence, his godson had begun to drift. And now, as Sirius watched him, he had to force himself to let the poor kid be.

It had been easier to pretend that everything would be all right when he'd been trying to convince Harry of it; not that Harry had believed him but the effort had eased Sirius' own worries. Worries that had been with him anyway since Arthur had announced that random wizarding families wanted to adopt Harry.

And as soon as Harry had asked Snape to find Pettigrew, all of Sirius' sensible reasons why Snape shouldn't had tried to desert him. Though in the end, Harry's desperation had won out over common sense. Sirius could have denied himself his freedom, but refusing Harry wasn't even an option.

There were just too many ways that all of this could go wrong...

His nerves finally propelling him out of his slouch, Sirius pushed himself to his feet abruptly. He swiped Harry's empty teacup and the saucer from the side table. He paused over the threshold into the kitchen. Molly and Arthur were sitting at the table, their heads bent together. He had expected them to return to their beds. They stopped talking abruptly.

"Is Harry asleep?" Molly asked, an odd note of casualness in her voice.

Sirius set the teacup quietly in the sink and nodded.

Molly smiled. "I wasn't certain the Calming Draught in your cupboard would be strong enough, but I couldn't find a Sleeping Draught."

Sirius frowned. "You put a Calming Draught in his tea?" Molly hadn't even made the tea.

"When you went upstairs to get socks," Molly said, looking extremely pleased with herself. "I'm glad it worked."

Sirius stared at her. He told himself his anger was irrational. Except that where in the bloody hell did Molly get the idea that she had the right to lace Harry's drinks with calming draughts?

"He didn't need a Calming Draught."

"Of course he did," Molly told him. "He was obviously very upset.

"Yes he was," Sirius said, trying to temper his sharp tone and failing. "He was upset, not hysterical."

Molly raised her ginger eyebrows. "I was only trying to help, Sirius."

"Yes well, thank you Molly," Sirius said stiffly. "But Harry and I are doing just fine on our own."

"I expect you think so," Molly said with a little nod. Sirius halted on his way back to the parlor.

"Molly…"

"No, Arthur," Molly said, brushing off her husband's hand. "He should know."

Sirius narrowed his eyes, not liking Molly's tone at all. "Know what?"

Molly lifted her chin. "We do hope of course, that Peter Pettigrew will be apprehended for your sake, Sirius... But even if he is, we'd like to offer Harry a home with us."

Sirius was fairly certain someone had punched him in the stomach. There was no other reason why he couldn't seem to breathe. "_What_?"

"We've wanted to for years," Molly explained, her eyes softening. "But the headmaster wouldn't allow it. He said that Harry needed the wards on Privet Drive. And no matter how many times I told him that Harry needed a proper home even more, he wouldn't be swayed." She rushed on, her words blurring together, "But now that he can't go back to Little Whinging, he'll be more than welcome at the Burrow."

"But…" The anger had completely drained and Sirius felt a bit clumsy as he shook his head. "Harry wants to stay with me."

"Of course he does," Molly said, sharper now. "I won't argue that he wouldn't have fun with you, Sirius, but he needs more than that. He needs someone to take care of him-"

"I _have_ been taking care of him," Sirius interrupted, anger surging right back to the fore.

"By allowing him to stay up all hours of the night?" she demanded.

"I haven't-"

"It's the middle of the night and you gave him coffee!"

"He was cold!" He cut off Molly's next words. "And despite your belief that I am nothing but an irresponsible oaf, Harry _has_ been going to bed at a reasonable hour since everything was put back in order. And I haven't once given him coffee otherwise. Firewhisky either, if that's your next ridiculous accusation."

Molly's eyes were snapping. "Well, what would you expect me to believe?" she demanded. "Harry clearly doesn't respect you!"

Once more Sirius felt like the air had been knocked out of him.

"Now Molly," Arthur interjected quietly. "That's hardly fair. Our own children have shouted at us, after all. Numerous times."

"But such blatant defiance?" Molly countered. Arthur tried to answer, but Molly ploughed right over him. "You are very dear to Harry, Sirius, but obviously he thinks of you as an older friend… a brother even. And even free, you haven't anything to offer him besides a roof over his head. Harry is already very comfortable with our family and you know that we consider him one of our own…"

Molly continued on but Sirius was no longer listening. He turned away and as if his feet had been clad in lead, he walked slowly back into the parlor. He sat heavily on the footstool, his gaze fixed on his sleeping godson.

Of course he'd been irritated when Harry had dismissed him earlier. Actually, he'd been quite hurt by Harry's snub, though he probably shouldn't have been. He knew that Molly was likely right though that Harry thought of him as a friend more than anything else. Sirius' own paternal feelings notwithstanding, he could accept that.

Sirius leaned over and gave the quilt a gentle tug; Harry had turned over and his socked toes were sticking out once more. Smiling despite himself, Sirius rested a hand on his godson's ribs as Harry curled up, letting himself be soothed by the even in and out of Harry's breathing.

He was absolutely certain that Harry wouldn't choose the Weasleys over him. And even if Harry didn't respect him, it didn't change anything. Sirius wasn't quite as stupid as Molly wanted to believe. He realized sixteen year olds needed boundaries. But he was also realistic enough to understand that Harry was a kid who'd done without his entire life.

Harry might not want—or accept—a traditional sort of parent. And Sirius might not ever have the chance to give him that anyway, though hope continued to creep in without his permission.

But whatever happened, whatever Harry needed him to be, he would be.

_TBC..._


	3. Hundreds

**Chapter Three: Hundreds**

Grimmauld Place was shrouded in the murky light of dawn when Harry dragged his eyes open. It took him a moment to figure out where he was. It didn't help that everything around was a shapeless blob. He sat up slowly, his hand stretching out automatically to feel for his glasses on the table beside the couch.

"Here," Sirius' soft voice interrupted the search; spectacles were pressed into Harry's palm.

Harry blinked as he shoved the glasses over his nose. Sirius was sitting on the low stool in front of the couch.

"How long was I asleep?" He couldn't even remember falling asleep. And his head felt muzzy, like he was half-dreaming.

"Not quite an hour."

Glancing at the door, Harry asked, "Nothing?"

"Not yet."

Harry blew out a breath. "Should it be taking so long?"

"They'll contact us as soon as they can," Sirius assured him; he reached out to pat Harry's knee. "Try not to fret."

Harry sighed and slid his fingers under his eyes, giving them a quick rub. "I feel sort of funny…"

Sirius frowned as he leaned forward. "How do you mean?"

"Dunno, like I'm…" Harry's heart skipped a beat and he closed his eyes, his mind seeking the deep waters in the farthest reaches of his mind. But they were undisturbed. The vast ocean quiet and peaceful.

And whole.

"Harry?"

Sirius' anxious voice brought him slowly out again. "Sorry," he said as he blinked his way back to his godfather. "I feel fuzzy… just like when I was skipping between the realities. They're still intact though," Harry rushed to add as his godfather straightened in alarm.

Sirius didn't look particularly buoyed by that. He studied Harry's face for a moment and finally sighed. "Molly put a Calming Draught in your tea earlier. That might be why you feel a bit off."

"Why did she do that?"

"I've no idea. She thought you needed one, I suppose." Sirius rested the back of his fingers against Harry's cheek. "Feel all right, otherwise?"

Harry squinted at his godfather. "Yeah…"

"Oy, don't look at _me_ like that," Sirius told him with facetiously wide eyes. "I had no idea she put it in."

Harry made a face. "I'm not hysterical."

"That's exactly what _I_ said!"

Unbidden, a smile rose to Harry's lips at his godfather's indignant exclamation; it was whisked away in the next instant. With its distinctive creak, the front door opened. Sirius stiffened and as if in slow motion, he stood. Harry stared at the inky form as it slipped through the crack. The door closed softly behind.

And then the tall shadow was moving toward them.

Snape's pale face was finally illuminated by the room's single glowing lamp. One of his cheeks was sporting a dull purple bruise and his face was absolutely expressionless. Harry's heart immediately began to hammer in his chest. Sirius gripped his hand and pulled him up.

"Pettigrew has been apprehended."

Silence. Absolute silence.

Snape continued on without emotion, "We found him at my home, along with several other Death Eaters. Lupin and Tonks have taken him to the Ministry."

Sirius' grip was nearing painful, but neither he nor Harry said a word.

"They will contact you-"

A silvery wolf sailed through the wall. It settled on its haunches in front of Sirius. Remus' voice, full of excitement filled the room, "Peter is in custody! He's under guard and both Kingsley and Fudge are en route. Tonks notified the _Prophet_ and a reporter is already here. As soon as we know anything further, we'll contact you."

The silver wolf faded, the vapor spreading until it disappeared. Harry and Sirius were once more staring at Snape.

"He was…" Sirius cleared his throat; his hand was shaking in Harry's. "There were other Death Eaters?"

Snape's tiny smile was the self-deprecating sort. "They have been using it as a base of operations. There were only two others; all of them sleeping. Pettigrew's capture was relatively simple."

"He was still under the curse then?" Harry asked when Sirius only stared at Snape.

"He was," Snape answered with a stiff nod. "I ordered him to cease his struggles. Tonks and Lupin cast several charms; to tie him and to prevent him from reverting back to his Animagus form. And I altered his memory, just as planned. He will not remember the circumstances of his capture."

"Did he hit you?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself. Snape's brows signaled his confusion. "Your cheek…"

Snape's fingers went to the dark bruise; he grimaced. "He kicked me before he was completely subdued."

"_Accio_ Bruise Salve," Sirius called quietly and a squat jar flew from the kitchen—the same one that Sirius had used to treat Harry's Snape-inflicted bruise barely a week ago. Sirius handed the salve to the professor, who hesitated before he took it.

None of them moved, not even Snape to apply the salve. Sirius cleared his throat again and extended his empty hand toward Snape. "Thank you…"

The professor eyed the proffered hand. "I had very little to do with the outcome."

Sirius shook his head. "Your willingness made it possible," he said, his voice still shaky. "So, thank you."

His entire body stiff, Snape finally accepted the gesture. He released Sirius almost immediately and switched his gaze to Harry. "Since it is unlikely that you will lose your godfather now, I trust you will have no need for any foolish risks?"

Harry could only shake his head; his mouth was dry.

"Then we will resume training in the morning." A curt nod. With the salve gripped in a white-knuckled hand, Snape pivoted and with a solid click of the library door, he was once again ensconced in his self-proclaimed bedroom.

Harry swallowed several times. "Do you think he's right?"

"No matter what happens, you aren't going to lose me," Sirius said quietly. The statement caused a mild panic in Harry's chest but Sirius' soft smile lessened it. "I do think it's very likely that they will charge Peter with the murders they convicted me of. It will be rather difficult to explain away the reappearance of a man who was supposed to have been killed fifteen years ago."

But no matter how certain Sirius sounded, he looked no less anxious than Harry felt. Which made it rather difficult to believe him. Sirius squeezed his shoulder but even that didn't make Harry feel any better.

"Are you hungry?"

Harry shook his head; he didn't think he could even stomach a glass of water. Sirius pushed the hair out of his face, his eyes glancing round the empty room.

"It will probably be several hours before we hear any news…"

Harry studied the dark circles under his godfather's eyes. "You should sleep."

Sirius' lips quirked. "So should you." At Harry's small smile, Sirius hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him close. "Oy," he muttered into Harry's hair, "if I didn't think Voldemort would kill us both, I'd take you for a jog round the square; I'm about to jump right out of my skin."

The admission somehow broke through the heavy weight in Harry's chest. He let his head lean against his godfather's shoulder and as they stood there in the dim light, he realized how very tired he was.

OoOoOo

Ginny was the first to come downstairs, when the sun was just dusting the sky orange. Sirius noticed her out of the corner of his eye as Harry fended off a jet of pink light from his wand. Dueling was as close as they could come to jogging at the moment.

Harry yelped as the pink magic grazed his arm. Sirius immediately lowered his wand. "That shouldn't have hurt," he said as he closed the space between them.

"Didn't," Harry said, panting slightly. "Startled me."

"You're certain?"

Harry nodded and Sirius stepped back, not wanting to hover. Harry noticed Ginny then; she was smiling between them. Harry cocked his head, obviously not understanding her expression.

"Dueling at dawn?" she asked, her smile a bit more mischievous now.

"Just staying busy," Sirius explained, trying to keep the smirk out of his voice as he pocketed his wand. Ginny nodded, her features sobering.

"Ron and I listened to the entire conversation in the kitchen." She shrugged when Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Extendable ears."

"Ah." Sirius glanced at Harry, expecting him to announce their bit of news, but his godson had his lips pressed together, that line of worry marring his forehead once more. "Peter is in custody," Sirius explained. "We're awaiting further news."

Ginny's dark eyes widened and she clasped her hands together as a huge smile lit her face. "They found him?"

Sirius related the story to her, and then again a moment later when Arthur and Molly came down the stairs—Arthur dressed for a day at the office. As soon as Sirius finished, Arthur kissed his wife's cheek and then left through the Floo without even a cup of a coffee, much to Molly's distress.

Ron came down next, grumbling about all them being loud enough to wake the dead.

"They'll have to acquit you," he said though once the story had been repeated for the third time, his voice full of sleep-soaked confidence. Ginny, who by then had noticed Harry's reticence, nudged her brother none too gently in the ribs. He glowered at her.

"It's not even six thirty," he groused and went blearily into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley prodded Ginny after him.

"Harry dear," she said quietly after her reluctant daughter had been waved into the kitchen, "wouldn't you like some breakfast?"

Harry didn't answer; he didn't even appear to have heard her. He was staring out the window; watching the night turn into day. Searching for another silver wolf. He was gripping his wand, his jaw set at a tense angle.

"Give us a few moments," Sirius told Molly, but she ignored him.

"You need to eat, Harry," she said as she approached. She touched his arm and Harry started, jerking back a little. Molly's eyebrows drew together but she collected herself quickly and produced a gentle smile. "You'll make yourself ill."

"I'm not hungry," he said, not exactly snapping, though there was definite impatience in his tone. He pocketed his wand and turned away from her.

"I know you're worried," Molly went on, her voice oddly cajoling and firm at the same time, something Sirius didn't think he could have managed. "But you need to eat and then maybe a Sleeping Draught to help you sleep. You're exhausted-"

"_No_."

Molly closed her mouth slowly at the sharp word.

"I don't need a Sleeping Draught," Harry told her, his voice very prickly; he narrowed his green eyes. "I didn't need that Calming Draught either. Because I am _not_ hysterical. I'm worried; Sirius' freedom is at stake," he reminded her. "I don't want to eat. And I'm _not_ going to sleep until we hear from Remus and Tonks."

Sirius wouldn't have been surprised if Harry had added a 'so there' at the end of the short rant, but his godson just glared at Molly, silently daring her to argue with him.

Mrs. Weasley worried her lip but eventually sighed and with drooping shoulders she went into the kitchen. Harry clenched his jaw, turned sharply and began to pace.

Sirius watched him through two turns and then interrupted with a quiet, "Harry."

Harry stopped, but he shook his head before Sirius could even speak. "I'm not hungry," he insisted.

"Neither am I," Sirius said, smiling a little. He patted the stool where he'd sat while he'd watched over Harry earlier. "Come sit."

Harry's fingers eased out of their fists and silently did as Sirius asked. Sirius leaned forward and grasped his godson's knees, anchoring both of them. "There's very little reason to believe I won't be acquitted now—"

"But we don't know—"

"No, we don't know for certain, but Kingsley is there and he knows I'm innocent. Tonks as well. And as soon as they see Peter's memories—or administer Veritaserum, they'll know. There isn't any way for him to hide from them."

"But they didn't do any of those things when they arrested you," Harry pressed and Sirius wished he knew exactly what to say to take the worry away.

"They didn't care about the truth then," Sirius said, old anger resurfacing, which he dutifully squashed. "I was a perfect scapegoat. They can't ignore this evidence though. Even if Fudge wanted to, he can't. Not with Shacklebolt there… and reporters."

Harry didn't respond right away. Sirius said quietly, "Harry, I promise you that it will be all right."

Harry dropped his head into his hands. "I know," he mumbled. "But you can't promise that he'll be convicted—or that you'll be free."

Sirius rested his hand on Harry's bowed head. "I wish I could…"

"I'm not trying to be such a prat," Harry said miserably and even with all they'd been through in the past few weeks, Sirius had never heard Harry sound so young.

"You are not a prat," Sirius assured him, his thumb feathering through his godsons' dark hair. "You're holding up remarkably well, I'd say. I'm certainly not feeling particularly calm."

Harry glanced up through his fingers. Sirius tried a smile but Harry only slumped further. His next words were muffled in his palms, "I don't want to be someone's formality."

His throat suddenly tight, Sirius had to swallow twice before he could speak, "I know."

Harry didn't respond for a long minute. He finally let his hands drop. Staring at his palms he said, "I'm sorry I was so rude."

Surprised, it took Sirius a moment to answer. "It wouldn't have taken much to convince me," he said, not quite sure what sort of tone he was trying to convey, or even what he wanted Harry to hear. Harry brought his eyes up. He looked like he was expecting Sirius to continue but Sirius had no idea what to say. _Next time, don't blatantly defy me?_ Made him sound too much like his father.

He smiled a little, his fingertips making circles on the back of Harry's head. "I don't feel much like eating either, but I think we will both feel better if we do. And it won't do to go all day without food."

Harry's face fell. "All day?"

"I don't think they'll want to rush this."

Harry sighed. "I'm still not hungry though."

"I'll feel better if you eat."

Harry gazed at him for a protracted moment and then gave in, "Yeah, all right."

"Good. And then, perhaps an attempt to sleep?" A smirk. "I won't even insist on a Sleeping Draught."

Harry opened his mouth to protest.

"Humor me."

Harry squinted at him. Sirius raised his eyebrows expectantly and Harry sighed again.

"You have to sleep too then," he said, using his elbow to nudge Sirius' arm. Sirius smiled.

"Of course." It was rather unlikely, but Harry didn't need to know that.

There was a movement out of the corner of Sirius' eye as he stood and when he looked up, he found Molly standing in the kitchen doorway. She was gazing at them with a funny look on her face. The expression changed immediately to chagrin when Sirius caught her eye. He smiled at her and gave his godson a hand up, encouraging him with a light grip on his shoulder.

She stepped back and allowed them to pass.

Ginny and Ron greeted them as they sat side by side across the table. Molly tentatively set a plate of hotcakes in front of Harry. He smiled sheepishly at her and tears immediately sprang to her eyes.

She ran a hand over his hair and dabbed at her eyes with her apron. "Eat," she said briskly, including her children when she noticed that they'd stopped eating to stare at her. She set another plate in front of Sirius, patted his shoulder and went back to the stove.

Sirius' eyes met Ginny's as he reached for the pumpkin juice. She smiled warmly at him. Hoping he hadn't won Molly over for nothing, Sirius returned Ginny's smile and filled Harry's glass.

OoOoOoO

The story of Wormtail's capture was told three more times—once to Bill during breakfast, to McGonagall and Pomfrey later in the morning after Harry had slept for another hour, and again to Hermione when she Flooed in from the ministry with Mr. Weasley at lunch time.

Hermione's parents had agreed to one night away and Mr. Weasley had been on his way home to update Sirius and Harry. Not that there was much to update except that Wormtail's memories of events nearly fifteen years ago had been extracted.

"The minister has already spoken with Rita Skeeter to do a full story on this," Mr. Weasley had said. "His _triumph for justice,_ he's calling it."

And so Harry had grown steadily more anxious as the day wore on; Sirius quieter. Harry had abandoned an attempt at a game of chess with Ron as the dinner hour approached. He and Sirius were sitting on the sofa, not saying much as conversations went on in murmurs around them.

"Dinner is in five minutes," Mrs. Weasley said as she marched through the parlor. Pausing only for a second, she knocked soundly on Snape's library door. It swung open. Snape scowled as soon as he saw her.

"I do not wish to be disturbed—"

Mrs. Weasley drew herself up. "Dinner will be on the table in five minutes," she said, louder than seemed necessary. "We would like you to join us." Snape narrowed his eyes, the black irises full of calculation.

"Very well," he said with a curt nod. Harry and Sirius glanced at one another and Mrs. Weasley looked no less shocked. Snape turned back into his room, but with the library door only partially closed, the sound of the Floo activating in the kitchen made everyone freeze.

In slow motion, each head turned toward the Floo and though Harry knew it must be Mr. Weasley, it didn't stop the desperate hope that this would finally be the moment that had slipped through Sirius' fingers that night of the full moon two years ago.

Remus stepped into the parlor, a thick envelope clutched to his chest, a huge grin on his face. Harry stood up so quickly, he tripped over his own feet; Sirius steadied him and together they stared at the envelope.

Remus crossed the short distance and extended it toward Harry. "Tonks wanted to be here..." He was practically bouncing on his toes.

Harry looked to his godfather, whose face had drained of all color. He nodded shakily, his Adam's apple bobbing with small jerks along his throat.

With a trembling hand, Harry took the envelope. The crinkling parchment was much too loud as he gripped it. He looked round the room, at all the faces of people he loved. Remus with that silly grin. Mrs. Weasley holding Ginny's hand. Hermione holding Ron's. Pomfrey, Bill and McGonagall clustered in an anxious little group.

And Snape hadn't returned to his room.

Harry turned back to Sirius and tore the envelope open.

There was an official-looking seal at the top of the first parchment.

His voice sounded like he'd been denied water for days as he began to read aloud, "Dear Mr. Potter, in light of recent evidence, the Wizengamot has unanimously voted to overturn Sirius Black's conviction in connection with the deaths of Peter Pettigrew and thirteen Muggles in 1981." Harry had to stop reading then as his throat seared. Sirius had latched onto his shoulder with a fierce grip; his breathing was shallow.

Remus took the parchments gently from Harry's fingers and continued on, his own voice strong, "Details cannot be released at this time, but this letter is to inform you that, as requested in your parents' last will (which you will find enclosed), Sirius Black was named your godfather and your guardian in the event of your parents' deaths. Should Mr. Black still be alive, and if you have no objections, he is hereby granted full custody—"

Harry knew Remus was still speaking but it didn't matter. Sirius let out a strange, strangled roar and gathered Harry into his arms, into a hug so tight that Harry couldn't breathe. There were other shouts of joy nearby and some muffled sobs as well—some that sounded very close to Harry's ear, but all he cared about was that Sirius was free.


	4. Faceless and Nameless

**Chapter Four: Faceless and Nameless**

"I _told_ you that we would be a proper family!"

Harry grinned into Sirius' shoulder as laughter vibrated his skull. Sirius pulled him back a little and took Harry's face in his hands, his smile eclipsing the one Remus had worn only a moment ago.

"_Didn't_ I?" he demanded, giving Harry a gentle shake.

Harry laughed, unable to stop smiling and not caring how silly he looked. "Yeah."

Sirius planted a rough kiss in the middle of his forehead before crushing him in another hug. They were surrounded a moment later, both of them pulled into different sets of arms as congratulations sounded out around them. Remus thumped Sirius' back while Mrs. Weasley and Tonks kissed Harry's cheeks.

Hermione smothered him and Ron shook him until his teeth rattled. And Ginny hugged him fiercely, only letting go when Remus finally crowded in for a back-thump all Harry's own.

And then Harry found himself facing Snape, a huge smile still plastered on his face. Snape gave him the barest of smirks.

"I can't believe it, mate," Ron said, jostling his shoulder again and turning Harry's attention back to the boisterous group. "You were almost my brother, you know," Ron said, laughing.

"What?"

"Mum was all set to adopt you after she heard about the Dursleys," Ron explained. "She's wanted to for years… What?" he demanded of Hermione who was glaring at him. "She has, hasn't she, Ginny?"

"Oh," Harry said. "Well, er… that was nice of her." He glanced at his godfather, who was accepting a glass of wine from Remus. Sirius caught the glance and with a wink, he raised the glass in salute. Harry smiled, the surge of giddiness coming back full force. When he turned back to his friends, Hermione was elbowing Ron very forcefully in the ribs.

"Bloody hell," Ron hissed as he clutched his side. "I wasn't going to tell him."

"Ron!"

"Tell me what?" Harry looked between his friends.

"Nothing," Hermione and Ginny said together.

"I think we can all agree that I don't deal well with secrets." He had only been joking but the way Hermione and Ron eyed one another made him demand, "What?"

"We heard Mum and Dad talking," Ginny said softly, her gaze darting to Sirius. "It was after everyone else left the kitchen."

Harry raised his eyebrows, expectant.

Ginny sighed and set her hip lightly against the wall, her brown eyes very serious. "Just don't get angry, all right?"

Harry frowned. "Just tell me, Ginny."

Ginny narrowed her eyes a little and Harry thought she'd refuse but instead she said, "They were discussing petitioning for guardianship."

Harry tilted his head as he tried to figure out what she meant. "You mean if Sirius hadn't been freed."

Another quick glance between the two Weasleys and Harry's pulse jumped.

"They were only discussing it," Ron said quickly.

"You know Mum doesn't think anyone can take care of you like she would," Ginny added, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "She just wants to make sure you're taken care of."

His jaw set in a hard line, Harry nodded. "And Sirius can't do that, is that it?"

"Of course he can-"

Harry twisted away from her. "Not according to your mum."

"Harry," Hermione said, her tone placating, "it doesn't matter now. Sirius has already been given custody."

Harry ignored her, his attention on Ron and Ginny. "So they were discussing what exactly?" he asked, barely managing to keep his voice even. "How to go about making everyone see that Sirius is unfit to be my guardian?"

Ginny shook her head. "No," she said softly. "They just wanted to know you had the option if you wanted it."

_The option?_ Ludicrous. Absolutely ludicrous. "How could they think I would choose them over Sirius?"

Ron frowned. "You could do a lot worse than my parents, you know."

"I did do a lot worse," Harry said flatly and Ron's cheeks went pink. Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets, shaking his head as Hermione opened her mouth to defend him. "Don't bother, Hermione. I already know how you feel about Sirius. You've made it perfectly clear more than once. But, you don't know him. None of you do."

"Harry-"

"Leave it, Hermione," he said gruffly. "It doesn't matter how any of you feel; not about _this_."

"We're happy for you," Ginny said firmly, straightening up. "For both of you. Mum just doesn't understand. I'm not trying to defend her, Harry, but I think that's just how mothers are."

Since he didn't know anything about mothers, Harry said nothing.

"I know what Sirius means to you," Hermione put in, her voice subdued and a little tremulous. "I just want you to be happy."

Harry sighed. "I am though, Hermione. I mean, I know that sounds mental considering the last few weeks, but I would be dead—or at least on some sort of suicide mission to destroy Voldemort—if Sirius hadn't been here."

Hermione nodded. She looked to Ron but he shrugged. "Don't look at me. I've always liked Sirius and I sure as hell don't need another brother." His smile softened the words. "Besides, I don't think Sirius will let Mum have you."

Their gazes drifted to Sirius. He was still talking to Remus, his entire face animated as he waved his arms for emphasis. Harry had never seen him so happy.

"Go ahead," Ginny said, nudging his arm. Harry gave her a tiny smile and went over to join Sirius and Remus. Sirius looped an arm round his shoulders as he nodded to something Remus was saying.

"Round the world," he said with a grin, turning to Harry. "What do you say, Harry? Fancy a holiday with your old godfather?"

"I think Voldemort might have an objection," Harry said, smiling despite himself.

"Smart arse," Sirius muttered, squeezing his neck lightly in the crook of his elbow. "I meant _after_ we dispatch Voldemort."

Harry smirked up at his godfather. "Where's the fun in that?"

With a chuckle, Sirius said, "Well for one thing, we won't have to hide under your dad's invisibility cloak."

Harry feigned a very serious nod. "There is that…"

"And I think a Bubble-Head Charm will work much better without one."

"Why do we need a Bubble-Head Charm?"

"Deep-sea diving, of course," Sirius said as steered Harry toward the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley was calling for everyone. "I've always wanted to go, you know."

Harry couldn't stop the slow smile. "Yeah?"

Sirius grinned. "I hear they have the most amazing coral reef off the coast of Belize..."

* * *

"Coming Harry?" Ron asked through a yawn as he trailed after Ginny and Hermione on their way upstairs.

Harry, still planted on the sofa beside his godfather, looked up. He didn't particularly want to, especially since Mrs. Weasley had suggested it was past time they went to bed. He glanced at Sirius, who paused in reading the minister's letter for perhaps the sixth time.

Harry had never before asked his godfather for permission to stay up; it wouldn't even have occurred to him, but Mrs. Weasley and the others were staring at him—expecting something. Sirius, for his part, looked rather confused as he glanced between Harry and the others.

"I thought we'd look over these documents a bit more thoroughly," he finally said, jiggling the parchments in question, his grey eyes seeming to read things that Harry didn't think he was giving away. "If you feel up to it."

Relieved, Harry said to Ron, "I'll be up in a bit."

Farther up the staircase, Ginny smiled. "Night."

Ron and Hermione echoed the words. Molly didn't comment, simply ushering them up the stairs and following in their wake. Harry watched her, not relaxing until she'd cleared the landing.

"Something the matter?"

Harry turned. With a small sigh he shook his head and slouched into the cushions.

"No?" Sirius rolled the parchments up. He rested them in his lap and turned his full attention to Harry. "You've been rather quiet since dinner."

Harry shrugged. "It isn't anything. Well, it's a ridiculous something," Harry amended when Sirius raised his eyebrows. In a voice subdued, he said, "Ron and Ginny told me their parents were talking about wanting to be my guardians."

Sirius sat back. "Ah."

Harry studied his godfather's posture. "You knew?"

Sirius folded his arms over his chest, a hint of amusement in his grey eyes. "Molly told me this morning."

"She did?"

Sirius nodded. "We had a bit of a row over it." He smiled. "I won."

Harry tried to picture that and found himself wanting to laugh. Sirius swatted Harry's head lightly with the scroll. "Did you actually think I'd let her have you?"

"I didn't think that," Harry said quickly. "It's just that, well, Mrs. Weasley can be a bit pushy and I didn't want her to…"

"To…?" Sirius prompted.

Feeling foolish, Harry flushed. "I don't know; upset you, I guess."

"Well, I thank you very much for that," his godfather said with a smile, "but it's my job to worry about you, not the other way round."

Harry nodded, but only as a reflex. He was fairly certain that he'd never be able to stop worrying about Sirius.

Sirius rumpled his hair. "What else is on your mind?"

Harry smiled. It was funny; how well Sirius knew him. "I just wish they wouldn't worry. Even _Snape_ didn't object to you."

"In Snape's mind, you were already my kid," Sirius said, shrugging. "It will probably take your friends—and Molly—some time yet to see that I'm not the crazed fugitive from Azkaban."

Indignant, Harry scowled. "They've known you were innocent for two years now."

"And they've seen very little during those two years that would prove to them that I'm capable of being your guardian—living off rats or in hiding, only contacting you in secret—"

"But you couldn't help that."

"No," Sirius agreed, "and Molly can't help but have paid more attention to those things, rather than to the fact that your parents always intended for me to be your guardian in their stead. She doesn't understand that I regretted losing that more than all the years I spent in Azkaban."

"And as happy as _this_ has made me," Sirius went on solemnly, indicating Fudge's letter, "it doesn't really change anything."

"How do you mean?" Harry asked, his dark brows colliding.

Sirius leaned forward. "In all the ways that are important," he said quietly, "your dad was my brother. And _you_ were dear to me the moment he put you in my arms. You've always been my family, Harry."

Harry had known that, of course. But hearing it was something entirely different, and it eased the last of the tension he'd been carrying with him all evening. "You are too, you know," he said, feeling silly as soon as the awkward words left his mouth. But Sirius didn't seem to mind. He kissed the top of Harry's head, which should have made Harry feel even more childish, but oddly it only made him smile.

"Did you really mean that?" he asked when Sirius straightened up. "About deep sea diving together?"

"Absolutely," Sirius said, his grey eyes lighting up. "What else would you like to do?"

"Besides a trip round the world?" Harry teased.

Chuckling, Sirius said, "Well, we might not have time for the _whole_ world, but at the very least, we'll manage a few continents. Although…" he said thoughtfully, "… we'll need to spend a few days looking for a house."

Harry cocked his head.

"Well, I'm not staying _here_ voluntarily," Sirius exclaimed, gesturing to the grimy room around them. "Have I given you the impression that I actually like this grim old place?"

"No, but I guess I hadn't really thought about where we'd live-"

"Well, we have loads of other things to think about as well," Sirius said, giving his shoulder a shake, his eyes sparkling again with renewed excitement. "We'll need furniture and you'll need new clothes. I could use a trip to Diagon Alley in any case; do you even realize how many years it's been since I've _seen_ the inside of a wizarding shop? We'll probably need to wear dark glasses and maybe I'll grow myself a long beard. I imagine even with the news of my innocence, I'll terrify at least half the population… What's the matter?"

Harry hadn't realized he'd been frowning. "Just that we have to find Voldemort first," he said, trying not to let his shoulders slump. He didn't want to deflate his godfather's spirits.

"We will," Sirius said, without a hint of worry in his face. "And it doesn't matter how long it takes," he assured Harry when Harry only shook his head. The parchment crinkled in Sirius' hands. "This is what's important. All the rest can wait."

Harry nodded because he knew Sirius didn't want him to worry. Sirius gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Fudge signed this himself," he said as he unwound the scroll. "Did you see that?"

Harry smiled; it seemed there wasn't anything that could deflate Sirius' happiness. Not even having to wait to fully enjoy his freedom. But Harry didn't want him to have to wait. And as he listened to Sirius reading the letter aloud one more time, he decided he'd work twice as hard with Snape; do whatever he needed to do to finally get rid of Voldemort.

And somehow, finding the will to cast the Imperius Curse didn't sound impossible any longer.

* * *

Snape, however, was in a particularly foul mood the next morning. He came into the kitchen when everyone else was just finishing up, a scowl already on his sallow face. "If you have finished dawdling," he snapped to Harry as soon as his gaze found him, "perhaps we might begin."

Harry quickly swallowed his mouthful of milk. "It's only eight o'clock," he protested.

"My point exactly," Snape growled. "I've been awake since six, which means you've already wasted two hours."

"We're nearly finished," Sirius said, setting his mug quietly on the table. "And we never start before eight-"

"All the more time wasted," Snape interrupted icily. "Unless you wish to give the Dark Lord _every_ possible advantage?"

Sirius didn't blink as he held Snape's frigid gaze, though he eventually had to give in. "You ready?" he asked, sliding his eyes to Harry.

"Yeah," Harry said with a sigh as he pushed himself up.

Snape's black eyes raked over the assembled group before he was glaring at Harry again. "How long is your little fan club intending to remain?"

"They're my friends," Harry corrected, earning himself another dark scowl. Across the table, Sirius shook his head slightly; Harry bit back a sigh and smoothed his expression. "They're leaving this morning," he said, finding a cordial tone with little effort.

Harry recognized the surprise in the professor's eyes, usually elusive. And since it had only been decided while Mrs. Weasley had spooned up eggs, of course Snape hadn't expected it.

"We thought it would be best to postpone the visit," Sirius said. He gathered his plate and mug into his palm in one smooth sweep. Snape gave him his unwilling attention. Sirius smiled just the tiniest bit. "Allow Harry to focus on our lessons."

"And I suppose," Snape addressed Harry again, "that you will be wasting even more time now to say your farewells?"

Harry let the sigh out this time. Even after everything, the man could still sneer. "I'll be quick," he said. The professor didn't even bother to glare again. He turned sharply on his heel and left without another word. "Oy, he's in a mood," Harry muttered as the library door slammed.

Ron snorted. "How can you tell?"

"Oh hush, Ron," Hermione scolded as she stood up and took her dishes to the sink.

"I'll take care of those, Molly," Sirius said as Mrs. Weasley began to turn the taps on. As she protested, he added, "Snape is not known for his patience." Mrs. Weasley tsked, only agreeing reluctantly and it was with mixed emotions that Harry said good-bye to his friends.

Mrs. Weasley said her farewells last, taking Harry's face in her hands. "We've left all your presents in the kitchen and you're to open them on your birthday," she said, her eyes already brimming with tears. Harry nodded. "We'll have a celebration at the Burrow as soon as we can…" She hugged him tightly. "Mind your godfather now. And Professor Snape."

"I will."

"Such a good boy." Mrs. Weasley patted his cheek, dabbing at her eyes as she turned to Sirius. "Take care of yourself," she said, still watery. Sirius smiled, no reservation in his grey eyes.

"We'll be fine," he assured her.

Molly nodded. She blew her nose and with one final smile for both of them, she and her brood went through the Floo.

* * *

"Perhaps a different wand?"

Harry ignored Snape's snide question and raised his wand for the fifth time. "I can do it," he said.

"By all means…"

"It would probably be easier if you would stop baiting him," Sirius said from Harry's other side.

"Doubtful."

"Why are you in such a foul mood?" Harry asked curiously.

Snape's lips thinned. "Cast the curse."

Harry almost asked again, thinking this level of irritation had to have an unusual root, but Sirius nudged his shoulder blade. "Try it again," he said with a little nod. His eyes were easy to read; whatever was bothering Snape was none of Harry's business. Or at least Snape didn't think so.

"And concentrate this time," the professor said, quite unnecessarily.

"You can do it," Sirius added, emphasized with a quick squeeze for Harry's shoulder. Harry nodded and closed his eyes to train his thoughts on exactly why he wanted to do this.

Voldemort had hunted him for the last five years. He had nearly killed him more than once. He had tortured Sirius'; tried to kill him.

And if he was given the chance, Voldemort would try again.

Drawing in a deep breath through his nose, Harry chanted the curse. The word slipped past his lips, with a strength this time that had been missing before. He could feel the magic swelling up from his core; from a deeper place than other spells. It consumed him for a moment and as the magic poured into his wand, he knew he could do anything.

Snape's face was right in front of his, darker than it had been a moment before; his eyes glazed.

"Harry," Sirius' deep voice broke through the fog weaving through Harry's brain. He shook himself. Fingers gripped his shoulder and Harry wasn't certain they should be there. "Are you all right?"

Sirius' grey eyes cleared the odd haze. "Yeah… Feels different." He glanced at Snape again. "I think it worked though."

"Yes."

There was an odd note to Sirius' voice but Harry couldn't focus on it. "What should I do?"

Sirius stepped away, his entire posture uneasy. He glanced at Snape. "Tell him to do something."

Harry wetted his lips; his tongue felt like parchment. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Fetch me a glass of water."

"Something he would normally refuse," Sirius amended, but it was too late. Snape had already turned toward the kitchen.

"Stop," Harry said, his voice coming out louder than he'd intended. Harry saw Sirius grimace in his peripheral vision. "Erm..." He had to clear his throat again. "Give me your wand."

Snape held it out. He continued to hold it until Harry took it. Harry smiled, immediately liking the feel of that dark wood. He closed his eyes, letting the aura of Snape's magic mix with his own. It belonged here.

He could do anything with this magic. It wasn't nearly as strong as his own, but it was fuller somehow. And it wanted him too.

He reached toward it—

A hand touched his shoulder again. He tensed.

"Harry." Fingers pressed against his neck. "Harry. End the spell now."

Harry blinked. He couldn't argue with that voice. Sirius was in front of him now, his face unsmiling. Harry looked away and whispered, "Finite."

The skin around the professor's eyes twitched.

He shook his head, looking very much like he was dislodging water from his ears. Very slowly, his face transformed. His gaze flicked from Harry's face to his wand, still in Harry's palm and suddenly the wood—dead now—felt like it was burning his skin. He shoved it toward Snape, nearly spearing the professor in the chest. Snape snatched it, his dark eyes reproachful.

"My _wand_?" he sneered.

"I-" Harry didn't know what to say; only that a huge rock had settled into the pit of his stomach and his chest was tight with guilt.

"That was the best order you could manage?" Snape slid his wand into his pocket with an irritated huff. "At least it worked. We will need to test it on a less agreeable subject, of course, but the strength of your spell was adequate for a first attempt."

Harry nodded dumbly. Snape narrowed his eyes, peering at him like he always did when he found Harry particularly aggravating. "Surely you have something to say?"

Sirius stepped around him, peering at Harry as well now. "Would you give us a moment?" he said quietly. Snape pursed his lips but withdrew without argument. Harry heard the library door click. Sirius took his arm and steered him toward the sofa. "Take a few breaths," Sirius instructed, his voice soft and steady. "You're extremely pale… Do you feel dizzy?"

Harry tried to breathe, but his limbs were trembling. Even though they shouldn't be. There was no reason for it. He'd done what Snape had asked. He'd managed it.

He cast the curse. He had made Snape do what he'd wanted. And it hadn't been difficult at all. He could do it again.

He dropped his head and said miserably, "I'm sorry."

The tick-tock of the old clock on the mantel filled Harry's head for long seconds and then Sirius sat down, settling a hand on the back of Harry's bowed head. "Oy, Harry," he said, his voice dropping, "I'm not angry with you."

Sirius leaned over when Harry didn't look up, his shoulders grazing Harry's. "I was worried… You almost seemed to lose yourself when you took Snape's wand."

Harry swallowed, his shame making it impossible to look at Sirius. He hadn't lost himself. "I wanted to keep it…"

Sirius would surely think he was daft. He could almost feel the wand in his hand again.

But Sirius didn't recoil. "You're all right," he murmured. "The magic… Dark magic affects you; do you remember I told you it would?" Harry shrugged. "You haven't done anything wrong."

But Harry couldn't believe that.

Sirius pulled his chin up, waiting until Harry met his gaze. "You haven't any choice," he said firmly. "None of us do. Voldemort will not stop until he's dead. He isn't only threatening you and me, but everyone else—people we don't even know. And I will not allow you to feel guilty for trying to stop it." His fingers gripped Harry's chin firmly. "Do you hear me?"

Harry's throat prickled as he nodded.

Sirius released his chin and palmed the side of Harry's head, guiding it until it rested on his godfather's shoulder. Harry closed his eyes, pretending for a moment that he wasn't nearly sixteen; or destined to save the world.

The library door opened again. Harry lifted his head, his cheeks still tingling; Sirius kept his arm across his shoulders. Snape took the few steps to the sofa, holding out a vial with dark liquid. "It will temper the effects of the dark magic."

"Thanks…"

Snape didn't leave and under two pairs of watchful eyes, Harry slugged the potion, nearly gagging it tasted so foul.

"Each time you cast a dark spell, it will be worse."

His eyes still watering from the awful potion, Harry gripped the vial.

"You might have warned us," Sirius said in a low voice.

Snape's fingers curled into a loose fist on his knee. "I could not have warned you. My forays into dark magic were not unwelcome."

Sirius blew out a breath. Harry watched him struggling with whatever he wanted to say, but in the end his godfather just nodded. "All right," he said with forced casualness as he pushed himself up, hoisting Harry up alongside, "I need some tea."

"We have hardly begun," Snape protested.

"Biscuits as well, I think," Sirius said in response. "Care to join us?"

Snape scowled but he followed along anyway.

_TBC..._


	5. In Every Strand of Water

**Chapter Five: In Every Strand of Water**

_Concentrate_.

Harry could practically hear Snape's voice snarling at him. Even though it was only a mental voice as Harry sifted through the streams, allowing them to flow around him. Random patterns of hot and cold—some heavier than others; some fast, some slow. But no matter how hard he concentrated, none of them felt familiar.

Except for Snape's and Sirius'.

It had all seemed simple enough when Remus arrived for dinner, and Snape had immediately volunteered him to be Harry's next test subject. But no matter how hard he tried to figure out which part of this vast ocean was uniquely Remus, he couldn't. Sirius' stream, as it always was, was beside him, just within reach.

Harry brushed his fingers through the warm water, smiling a little as he felt the presence of his godfather, even stronger than Snape's, even though Harry and the professor were sharing Harry's mind at the moment. There was a tickle of acknowledgment in his consciousness. None of them had discovered how Sirius knew Harry was interacting with his stream—or even if he was aware in the usual sense of the word.

_A reflex_, Snape had opined during their last session. But even if it was, Harry was fascinated by the connection they shared. He hadn't had a chance to explore a similar connection to Snape, since Snape was always with him when he entered the streams lately.

Maybe they were all connected somehow…

Or perhaps connections were forged along lines of friendship… or family…

Sweeping deeper through Sirius' stream, he concentrated again, ignoring Snape's mental questioning. The stream seemed without end though as Harry forged his way through it, being intentionally careful since he couldn't really know how his godfather would be affected outside this non-reality. And yet… this end of the stream was different—not entirely Sirius.

And as Harry pressed onward, with Snape breathing down his neck—metaphorically-speaking of course—he realized why this bit of stream felt different. And he had no idea how he knew it, but this was Remus. Every bit of it as Harry stretched along with it.

_Lupin?_

Snape's question startled him; he withdrew a little bit but didn't pull back completely.

_Yeah. How did you know? _

_Your grin is quite ridiculous. You have only managed to locate his stream, you realize; not manipulate it in any way. _

Harry shrugged. _I can do that. I've done it with yours and Sirius'._

_Are you waiting for me to applaud you? _

Harry sighed. _It wouldn't hurt you once to actually say well done, you know._

Snape's lips took on the sour expression that Harry had grown so familiar with.

_Yeah, I know_. Harry turned back to Remus' stream. _You would hate for me to get a swelled head or something._

Snape didn't retort and Harry was glad he didn't. He preferred not to spar with the professor. Especially when he was trying to concentrate.

It was a very odd sensation as Harry put all his effort into moving Remus' stream through the vast ocean. It was nothing like when he manipulated Sirius'—or even Snape's. Remus seemed disinclined to follow his orders.

_This is why I insisted you learn to wield the Imperius. _

Harry nodded, his lips pressed tightly together as he forced himself not to shy away from uttering the Unforgiveable. Sirius had told him he needn't feel guilty; he had to do this. What other choice did he have?

But of course there were always choices. Hadn't Dumbledore himself said so once?

He didn't have to destroy Voldemort.

But if he didn't, more people would die. He understood that quite well since Cedric. And since he'd almost lost Sirius.

Harry tried to shove that thought away, but something deep inside him latched onto it, onto the revenge he'd thirsted for so recently, and it seemed almost out of his control as the word formed in his mind.

_Imperio._

And Remus' stream complied, though Harry could feel its resistance.

Reluctance.

Harry felt a spark of irritation. Didn't Remus realize that he was trying to practice? Of course he did; it was the entire reason for this little jaunt with Snape. And Remus had agreed hadn't he?

Harry envisioned the stream, forcing it to move farther away from Sirius. When it resisted, Harry pushed harder, diving deeper within his core of magic and forcing the stream to separate. It would do as Harry wanted. He would make Remus obey.

Harry felt a tremble along Sirius' stream as well, but Harry blocked out the interference, all his efforts tied into trying to remove Remus' stream. To isolate it as Snape's had once been.

The waters surrounding him were beginning to churn. Frustrated, he slashed his arms through the streams, ordering them to be still. And they were; all but Remus'. And Sirius'.

Harry scowled at the protest.

He was vaguely aware of the loss of Snape's presence, but he paid no attention. He didn't need Snape here.

And if Remus felt some discomfort, it had to be worth it. Remus wanted Voldemort to be gone just as much as the rest of them.

So Harry thrust Sirius' stream aside, snarling when it splashed back at him. He flung his arms out, slinging the warm stream as far away as he could and dove into Remus' slip of water, his mind whirling as the water spun around him, faster and faster—trying to dislodge him.

Remus _would_ obey. Harry had ordered it.

But as Harry drew up every bit of strength he had, gathering water around him in a funnel so that the ocean spun around him, he was jerked backward.

Snape was beside him, his black eyes wide, his chest heaving. _Potter! Stop!_

_No!_ Harry yanked himself away, his hands already extended to fling Snape away as well. _I can do this! I can make him obey!_

_He'll die!_

The words were nonsensical but so desperate they startled Harry just long enough for Snape to grab both of his arms and give him a sharp shake.

_End the spell now!_

Harry didn't want to. The magic was yearning within him, trying to scream its way to Remus' stream. He had ordered it. He had to make Remus comply. He tried to twist away, but Snape held fast and against his will—against all the power telling him to make Remus' stream heed his command, he was forcibly propelled from the ocean, nearly slamming into one of the chairs in the parlor as the room solidified around him.

He grabbed the edge of a table before he fell, his breaths coming heavy and fast.

"What the hell did you do that for?" he cried, his shouts reduced to rasps as he tried to catch his breath. Snape was on his knees, his hair disheveled and his face scarlet.

"I didn't think you wanted Lupin's blood on your hands!" he shouted back just as hoarsely.

"What?"

Snape flung his arm out and Harry's gaze followed where he pointed. Remus was lying flat on his back, his face white. Sirius was kneeling over him, though he was staring at Harry, his mouth slack, his own features pinched and pallid.

But Harry couldn't process what he was seeing. "You told Remus it might weaken him," he shot back, his words aimed at Snape.

He gasped as an iron grip tightened around his bicep.

"It isn't weakening him. It's killing him, you stupid boy!" Snape hissed in his face. "End the damn spell!" Harry's teeth rattled as Snape shook him.

"Let go!" Stumbling himself, Sirius elbowed Snape out of the way. "Remus is coming round. Get away from him!" he ordered fiercely when Snape didn't move. Snape snarled something unintelligible and went to stand over Remus, his wand waving concentrated patterns over the still body.

Sirius' hands replaced Snape's and he turned Harry to face him. "Harry, end the spell. Remus can't breathe; do you understand me? He can't breathe."

Harry stared at Sirius, the words tangled up somewhere in the streams that Harry could still feel spinning, uncontrolled, in his mind. He flicked his thoughts outward, and there was Remus' stream—not completely separated from the rest of the ocean like he'd wanted… but it was feeble somehow. A trickle that looked like it had nearly dried up.

"Harry." Sirius gripped his arms; Harry looked into his godfather's eyes. "End the spell… _please_."

The rush of water seemed to crush him as Harry breathed, "Finite." The vocal wasn't necessary; the trickle was already turning into a full-fledged stream again, Sirius' stream crowding in to help. And water from all directions.

Tonks, Harry guessed. And maybe some of the Weasleys. Shacklebolt. Whoever was with him, Remus was no longer alone.

Harry's chest was tight as he tried to tear his eyes from his godfather's. Sirius was gazing at him, the grey shadowed and bare as he searched Harry's face.

"Potter nearly killed you, but if you wish to get up, by all means…"

It was as if a tidal wave of arctic water had swept him up. Harry turned toward Snape's acid drawl. Remus' limbs were twitching now—in spasms that made Harry feel sick.

But the dark spot in his core surged up again, taunting him.

_Remus volunteered. He isn't dead_.

Harry hadn't had a choice.

_Remus shouldn't have tried to win. _

Remus turned his head then; his complexion was gray. His eyes met Harry's.

Fear and confusion—sharp on his face. On _Remus'_ face.

Sirius was tugging Harry's shoulder, but Harry couldn't move. "He's all right now… Harry?"

Remus murmured something that only Snape appeared to hear.

"You were being suffocated," Snape said without a fleck of emotion, finally bending down with a potion in hand. And Remus was still twitching.

"Harry—"

Harry wrenched himself away from his godfather; careened toward the stairs. The clatter of his footsteps was drowned out by the roaring in his ears.

* * *

Sirius stared after his godson, his heart slamming against his ribcage. Remus was gurgling incoherently—or maybe it only seemed that way in Sirius' lightheaded state. He latched onto the back of a chair to steady himself. As if suspended in a cauldron of Sticking Solution, he turned to Remus.

He'd watched his friend struggling for air—gasping at the end there as the life was forced out of his body. And he'd had no idea how Harry was doing it.

Harry couldn't have done that…

Sirius hadn't even made the connection until he'd disrupted Snape's mind bond with Harry. He'd probably almost killed Snape by doing that as well, he realized. Snape hadn't mentioned it though. He'd taken one look at Remus and had gone straight back into Harry's mind.

Remus was breathing now—rasping breaths but he was alive. His color was returning. And Snape was scowling down at him, probably daring him to attempt to die on his watch.

Sirius jerked two handfuls of hair, only stopping when he realized he must look quite mad.

He swallowed down the burning swell in his throat, lost.

Snape looked up then, his dark eyes calculating things that Sirius couldn't even begin to fathom. And he didn't want to. He didn't want to know that it would only get worse.

Worse was here now.

Trusting Remus to Snape's care, Sirius turned abruptly and followed in Harry's wake.

The air was trembling when Sirius halted just inside Regulus' room. The figures scattered round the room—on the desk and the shelves—all of them were dancing. Harry was hunched over the desk, his shirt stretched taut over his back, his head bowed.

His arms were shaking as well; he looked as if he were trying to break the heavy maple desk in half.

"Harry," Sirius whispered into the vibration; cleared his throat and tried again.

"Go away."

Knowing Harry had actually said it, made it no easier to comply. He took half a step forward. The sound of glass popping made him freeze. He drew a slow breath… let it out again.

"Remus is all right now. You couldn't have known—"

"Oh yeah?" A metal cup along one of the shelves rattled. "I knew it was probably hurting him." Harry swept a vicious hand across the desk top, dislodging quills and a small metal box; it clanged against the wooden floor. "But he agreed! And he wouldn't obey me!"

"And I know it's the dark magic—the fucking curse," Harry raved while Sirius stood there, too horrified to move. "And I almost killed him! I'm as good as Voldemort!"

Harry had seized a glass trophy in his hand—one of Regulus' most prized.

"Harry…" It was the only word Sirius' brain would allow him to say.

"I know I am!" Harry went on, his rage beginning to truly frighten Sirius. "Don't try to tell me I'm not. I was suffocating him and you were trying to tell me to stop too, weren't you?" he demanded, still facing the opposite wall. The trophy shook in his fisted grip. "I could feel you trying to stop me and I didn't care!"

"Harry please—"

"No!" The single word rattled the entire room. As Harry spun sharply, the trophy he was holding was suddenly launched through the air. Sirius moved swiftly, but he still felt the rush of wind as it sailed past his ear and smashed into the wall behind; shattering into a thousand tiny shards.

The tinkle of breaking glass echoed in the silence.

Sirius and Harry stared at the wall, neither one moving. Harry's mouth opened and closed twice and then, slowly his shoulders slumped. He spun again, this time without coordination. Sirius moved with him, blocking his exit. His godson tried to push past, his words incoherent and wet. But Sirius wrapped his arms tightly around him, tighter while Harry flailed.

Until finally, when the effort was too great, the struggles quieted.

Sirius didn't loosen his hold, instead twined his fingers through the hair at the back of his Harry's head and brought him in even closer until his godson's face was pressed into his shoulder.

"I've got you," Sirius murmured into hair that was clumped with sweat. Harry's chest heaved, but he made absolutely no sound. "You're all right," Sirius breathed, and hoped that the words didn't feel as empty to Harry as they did to him.

He _would_ be all right. Sirius would see to it. To hell with the realities and to Harry's newfound mental powers. Even if they could destroy Voldemort.

_Not at Harry's expense. _

Sirius wouldn't let anything hurt this kid. This vulnerable, precious child.

He'd kill Voldemort himself if it meant Harry could live without burden. He didn't care what it might take, so long as Harry was safe.

* * *

When it seemed that Harry could stand without assistance—and that he no longer meant to bolt, Sirius guided him to the bed; he sat across from him, on the camp bed they'd set up for Ron. There was barely enough room for Sirius' knees, but he hardly cared at the moment.

Harry was determined not to look at him.

Sirius didn't force him; he reached forward, his thumb brushing away the tears clinging to Harry's cheeks. Harry looked up then, his green irises ringed in red. "I'm sorry," he said thickly. "I don't…" He shook his head as moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes. He pulled his face away. "I'm sorry."

Sirius fingers flexed uselessly. "The dark magic—"

"Is that Pettigrew's excuse too?" Harry asked hoarsely.

Sirius swallowed. "No," he said, his voice just as strained. "It isn't the same."

Harry turned, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the spot where the trophy had hit the wall. "I was suffocating him," he whispered.

Sirius' fingers dug into the tops of his knees as he leaned forward, but Harry refused to look at him. "You stopped… Harry, you didn't know it would happen." Floundering, he said quietly, "Remus is all right."

Harry said nothing, his Adam's apple jerking. He tucked his arms into his stomach as if he was in physical pain. "It would have torn your face up."

Sirius couldn't deny it. Concussion at the very least. _The speed…_

He cleared his throat; too loud in the silent room. "How do you feel now?"

Harry shook his head.

"Do you…" Sirius shifted, needing to know if the dark magic's influence had gone completely and feeling it was an intrusion to ask. It would be easier if Harry would look at him. "Do you still feel angry?"

The answer was a barely audible, "…no…"

Sirius's fingers uncurled. He sighed. "We shouldn't have asked you to do this."

Harry didn't even protest. He was still staring at the wall.

Sirius put a hand on his godson's knee. "We'll find another way."

Harry finally looked at him. His eyes were vacant as he nodded.

* * *

Sirius knew he should go downstairs; make certain that Remus really was all right. But even though Harry was asleep, he couldn't seem to make himself move.

He couldn't take his eyes off Harry.

And Harry was fretful, mumbling things that Sirius couldn't understand. He'd kicked his blanket off several times; refusing to keep them in place no matter how many times Sirius pulled them up again.

Sirius was sitting in the same spot, his chin propped in one hand as he watched his godson. He tugged the blanket to Harry's shoulder again, lingering to brush his fingers lightly through the dark sweep of hair obscuring his scar. It was still swollen, a constant reminder that Voldemort was out there somewhere, waiting for them.

Waiting for Harry.

Carefully, Sirius pulled his hand away. He gave the blanket another gentle tug and with a deep sigh, pushed himself up. He paused at the doorway at another mumble. Harry's head tossed against the pillow and his fringe spilled over his forehead once more. The deep ache in Sirius' chest felt like it would tear him apart as he turned away.

Remus was sitting in one of the chairs, his head to one side, quietly snoring.

He could see Snape in the library adjacent, bending over one the huge volumes that Sirius' father had so loved. Snape looked up as the last step creaked. Sirius tried to ignore the deep furrow along the other man's brow but it was obvious that whatever Harry was going through, even Snape was worried.

Sirius hesitated, vacillating between parlor and library but he finally veered toward Snape's makeshift room, stopping just outside the door.

"He is still intact, I presume?" The sneer was on the surface only and it only increased Sirius' worry.

"He's asleep…"

Snape pursed his lips briefly.

Sirius cleared his throat, but even so he sounded like he'd caught a bad case of laryngitis. "This can't continue."

"No," Snape agreed.

Sirius blinked at him.

Snape's sneer came back. "Even I do not believe Potter would be well served by embracing the dark arts."

"And because he won't…" Sirius shook his head, unable to finish.

"The darkness will fight for control. And it will win." Snape was no longer sneering. "And if Potter loses himself to dark magic, the Dark Lord has won."

"Harry," Sirius said with strain, "isn't simply the answer to Voldemort. We are going find another way because I refuse to lose him."

"Yes."

Sirius narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher Snape's blank features. "I don't care what it takes."

Snape turned back to his book. "I will contact the remaining members of the Order."

Sirius stared at the back of Snape's head for a long time. When he finally turned away, Remus was sitting up, smoothing wrinkles from his faded robes; his eyes still full of exhaustion.

"How do you feel?" Sirius had no idea why he was whispering.

"Severus said I shouldn't suffer any permanent damage." A wry smile. "I think he was a bit disappointed."

Unable to return even the tiny bit of humor, Sirius sat on the edge of the sofa. He tangled his fingers tightly together. Stringing together an entire sentence was difficult. "Harry didn't know it was having that effect on you."

Remus frowned. "Of course he didn't."

Sirius dropped his eyes to his thumbs; squeezed them until they hurt. "The dark magic… it's difficult to control."

"I know that… Sirius?"

Sirius closed his eyes briefly. He looked up when he could open them again. Remus face was filled with worry, but Sirius didn't want to talk about this; not now. "Is Tonks waiting for you?" he asked instead. Remus' brow slumped in confusion, but he shook his head.

"She's on maneuvers..."

Sirius nodded, pushing the lump down with difficulty. "Will you stay the night, then?" he asked quietly, his voice uncomfortably hoarse as his eyes flicked to the staircase. "I… need him to see that you're all right."

"Yes, of course… Sirius," Remus said as he leaned forward, his brown eyes sincere and easy to read, "I don't blame him."

Sirius gripped Remus' shoulder as he stood. "Thanks…" Without waiting for an acknowledgement, he went back to his godson.

* * *

The room was dim when Harry opened his eyes; hazy light just beginning to seep through the grime on the window. He stared at the blurry lump across from him as the fog of sleep persisted. Listless, he felt around for his glasses, found the smooth holly of his wand instead. He ran his thumb down its carved length; gripped it. It felt just the same as it always did—no leering darkness to pull him in; not like Snape's wand.

And nothing like what he'd felt yesterday when he'd stood hunched over the desk in the corner, his back to Sirius.

He released the wand; it thumped back onto the table. He turned his head toward the camp bed again, knowing it was Sirius. Harry told himself it was stupid to have this huge lump in this throat. Sirius wasn't angry.

Even though Harry had hurled a trophy at him.

And nearly killed Sirius' best friend.

Harry blinked several times and then told himself to grow up.

"Hey," Sirius' sleep-roughened voice startled him. The blurry shape rose up a bit. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long."

Blankets and sheets rustled. "_Lumos_… it's not quite six." Sirius swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He leaned over so that Harry could make out his features; his smile was as warm as ever. "Would you like to sleep a bit longer?"

Harry shook his head. Sirius gave his upper arm a comforting squeeze and rescued the glasses from the table. Harry slipped them on; scooted up so that he was sitting. If it had been any other day, he would have smiled at the state of his godfather's hair.

"Are you hungry?"

Harry shrugged. Food was the furthest thing from his mind but no need to worry Sirius over anything else. "You didn't have to sleep in here," he said quietly, his attention on the lines crossing his palm.

"I wanted to though."

Harry looked up when Sirius sat at the foot of his bed.

He settled his hand on Harry's ankle, which had escaped the blanket. "I was worried about you." He studied Harry's face. "Are you feeling better?"

Harry nodded. Sirius smiled again and patted his ankle a few times, then readjusted the blanket so that his foot was covered too. Harry had no idea why that should make his throat ache again but he ignored it. "Is Remus…? He's all right?"

"Perfectly all right," Sirius assured him. "Snape examined him and gave him a few potions. He'll be at breakfast."

Harry's stomach danced at that, but he was hardly going to refuse to see Remus. He wanted to see Remus, he chided himself. Of course he did.

"I spoke with Snape last night." Sirius' tone was hesitant and Harry braced himself for whatever scathing opinion Snape had formed. "We both agreed that we need to find a different way to fight Voldemort," Sirius went on, surprising Harry for a moment.

And he didn't say anything as he tried to figure out the best way to respond. He'd vaguely agreed to that before Sirius had suggested he go to sleep, he knew. But somehow, he didn't want Sirius to think he wasn't strong enough to do this. He _should_ be strong enough to do this.

"You shouldn't have to fight dark magic," Sirius said gently. "No one should have to do that." He smiled a little. "Not unless you're an Auror…"

Harry stared at his palms again, wondering what had ever made him think he could be an Auror. If one Unforgiveable made him lose control so easily…

"Snape is going to contact the rest of the Order. All of them will want to help."

Harry nodded, not knowing what else to do.

The mattress dipped as Sirius turned to face him fully; Harry bent his legs out of the way. Sirius pretzled his, leaning in until Harry had no choice but to look at him. "I don't want you to think this is any reflection of who you are," he said, his voice intense in a way that Harry wasn't used to.

"If you weren't such a good person Harry James, you wouldn't be feeling as guilty as you do. And you wouldn't be worried about Remus." Sirius captured his chin when Harry looked away. "You've been asked over and over to do things that you shouldn't have had to do. Because there was no one to say no—not to Dumbledore, and not to you, yourself. But I'm here now, and whatever it takes, I'll find another way."

Harry couldn't speak.

Sirius smiled, his grey eyes filled with affection. "Taking care of you is in the job description. Or so Molly says."

Harry's laugh was half sob. He pressed his forehead into his knees, relieved, embarrassed and ashamed in various measures, shifting by the second. Sirius' fingers wound through his hair.

It was a long minutes before Sirius murmured, "Yeah?"

The one word was filled with dozens of questions. But it was Sirius who was asking and Harry found it easier to answer than he would have thought. He lifted his head. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. Sirius nodded, and as Harry took in his godfather's pleased expression, it was easier to focus on the relief.

_TBC..._


	6. I Can Sense Them

**Chapter 6: I Can Sense Them**

Harry slouched in one of the tatty chairs in the parlor, his legs draped over one arm, only half-listening to Snape and Sirius arguing over the merits of various plans to defeat Voldemort. They'd been arguing all day. Remus had just left with Bill—to do something involving whichever Sirius had deemed the best of all the plans; Harry hadn't been paying attention—not since dinner.

Mostly because he was sifting lazily through the streams in his mind.

He wasn't combing them for anything in particular—certainly not for Voldemort, which would have given Sirius heart failure. Sieving through the water had become something of a habit in the past few days, one he was fairly convinced that neither Sirius nor Snape would approve of. Especially considering yesterday.

But at least Remus hadn't held a grudge.

"…that Harry?"

Harry brought his head up. Sirius and Snape were clearly waiting for an answer to whatever Sirius had been saying. "Erm… What?"

Both of them frowned, Snape with annoyance, Sirius with concern. "Snape wants to use the Legilimency spell to see if there are any lingering effects… from the dark magic."

Harry straightened out of his slouch; his feet hit the floor with a thud. "_Why?_"

Sirius' eyebrows swept up. Harry frowned, a bit surprised himself at how sharply the question had emerged. "I mean," he tried again, "we don't really need to do that, do we? I feel fine."

"How you feel is irrelevant."

Harry flicked an annoyed gaze at the professor. "No it isn't. I feel fine, so obviously there aren't any lingering effects."

"You might not be able to tell—"

"I'm inside my own mind," Harry said, ignoring Sirius' surprise; this time at being interrupted. "And I know there aren't." He wasn't entirely certain why it was so important, but he did know that he didn't want Snape prowling around his mind right now.

"I think we should make certain," Sirius said quietly as he moved away from Snape to sit across from Harry.

Frustrated, Harry stood up. "We didn't when I was affected before."

"Had you attempted to kill someone then, we would have," Snape retorted. Harry rounded on him.

"I wasn't trying to kill him!"

Snape curled a lip.

"Harry," Sirius interrupted gently, standing as well. He put a light hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry sighed and turned back to his godfather. "Just to be certain. We'll all feel better."

"You and Snape, you mean," Harry grumbled but giving in was apparently safer than further resistance. He waved a hand with a short, "All right."

"How very generous of you," Snape said sarcastically. Sirius was giving him a funny look as well. Then the streams that Harry was so carefully guarding rippled, sending a huge wave crashing outward. Harry's knees buckled as if he'd been in its wake. He felt Sirius steadying him, but it was over as quickly as it had come, the waves quieting again, leaving no trace of disturbance.

"You all right?" Sirius asked anxiously. Snape was right behind him, eyes as shrewd as ever.

Harry shoved the annoying shock of fringe away from his itching scar. "Yeah…"

"What happened?"

Harry paused to study the streams once more; they were perfectly calm. "The streams were a bit stormy… just for a second, but they're fine now."

"Stormy?" Snape demanded in his soft voice; meant to be menacing. Harry shrugged though, unaffected by it after so much time spent at its mercy.

"Usually they're calm—"

"I am aware," Snape interrupted, his hand waving impatiently. "How were they _stormy_?"

"Just…" Harry searched for the right explanation. "…waves, I guess."

Frowning, Sirius nudged him toward the chair. "I really think Snape ought to perform the Legilimency Spell."

"OK," Harry said with a shrug. He settled himself in the chair.

Snape and Sirius exchanged a look, which would have intrigued Harry if he hadn't been so tired. Sleep sounded a brilliant idea. He kept his eyes open though while Snape chanted the familiar spell. He accepted the intrusion and waited patiently while Snape peered into all the crevices he would have preferred to keep to himself.

The inspection took much longer than it should have, but then Snape was forever suspicious. Even though Harry knew there was no dark magic lingering in him. He would have sensed it, after all.

When Snape finally ended the spell, he glared down at Harry, breathing harshly. He spun away without a word. The library door closed behind him with a heavy click.

Sirius stared after him. "I suppose that means that everything is as it should be…"

Harry slumped back into his chair; rocking a little as the vast ocean sloshed a little. Hardly enough to take note this time. "It is," he murmured. He cracked an eye when Sirius' hand settled on his forehead. "I'm all right," he said, feeling like there was an echo.

"Except that the streams are acting oddly?"

"I don't think they're in danger of splitting again."

Sirius squinted down at him. "Would you be able to tell though?"

"Think so," Harry said with a shrug. He closed his eyes, opened them again when Sirius didn't move his hand. "If something was the matter, Snape would have said so."

Sirius continued to gaze down at him, finally sighing. But instead of letting go, his fingertips pressed lightly against Harry's forehead, though he didn't immediately speak.

Harry rolled his head so that his godfather was no longer upside down. "Yeah?"

"I want you to tell me the minute anything unusual happens."

"I know."

"_Has _anything else unusual happened?"

Harry squinted in confusion. "No."

Sirius let his hand fall. He sat in the chair opposite, pinching his cheeks between thumb and forefinger as he continued to gaze at Harry. It was rather unnerving but before Harry could say as much Sirius said quietly, "I'm trying to convince myself you weren't attempting to manipulate the streams..."

Undecided whether or not to be offended, Harry shook his head. "I wasn't."

Balancing his elbows on the arms of his chair, Sirius leaned back. "You were doing _something_ to them, though?"

Suddenly feeling as though he'd nicked biscuits from the cupboard, Harry shifted. "I wasn't really..." Sirius laced his fingers and waited. Harry glanced toward the kitchen briefly but there was nothing there to help him. "I was sort of… looking through them, I guess," he admitted reluctantly.

"Looking through—" Sirius sat up abruptly. "For Voldemort?"

"What? No!"

Sirius pulled back a little, a line appearing between his eyes.

Harry quickly swallowed; the squawked denial had burned his throat. "I wasn't looking for him. It's just a habit."

"Then it's one you need to be more careful with. What if you had found him without meaning to?" Sirius asked. "Or anyone dangerous for that matter? If you can find Remus through me, you should be able to find any number of Death Eaters through Snape—or even through me, since Wormtail—"

"I know all that. I would have told you if I'd sensed anyone." Sirius said nothing and Harry scowled. "I'm not completely daft, you know. I don't want Voldemort to kill me."

Sirius flinched and Harry shifted again, regret muting his irritation for the moment. "I'll tell you if anything odd happens."

"It may be too late for me to do anything," Sirius said, an edge creeping into his tone. "Or you may not have time to tell me at all."

"Well, I'll just have to try my best then," Harry said crossly. It wasn't his fault, after all, that the streams might rise up at any moment and swallow all of them whole.

Sirius leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. "I don't want you trying at all."

"I wasn't even doing anything—"

"Then leave the streams alone."

"All _right_."

Harry finally noticed they were glaring at one another when Sirius drooped, his fingers moving to knead the creases in his forehead. He sighed after a strained moment and dropped his hand. "I just want you to be careful—on your guard all the time," he said, his voice quiet again. "I know I'm probably being paranoid… but I can't help it."

Harry wasn't certain what to say, so he nodded. He didn't think Sirius was being paranoid, though he stopped himself from saying so. "I need to write to Hermione before I go to sleep," he said abruptly. "I promised I would."

Sirius didn't hide his surprise very well. "Sleep?" He glanced at his watch. "It's early yet."

Harry shrugged. "I'm tired."

Immediately, Sirius leaned forward, his eyebrows drawing together. "Do you feel ill?"

"No." The headache didn't count. "Just tired."

Sirius didn't look any less concerned, but at least he nodded. "All right." It sounded a bit like a question. "If you need anything—"

"Yeah, I know. Night." Harry stood quickly, his hands thrust into his pockets as he climbed the stairs. He thought Sirius was probably staring after him, and though it didn't make any sense, Harry wished he wouldn't.

OoOoOo

Sirius blinked groggily, his eyes attempting to adjust in the darkness. Trying to make out the blurry outline— "Shit! What the hell?" he demanded, his stupor clearing as he found Snape looming over him. And then panic took over. "Harry? Is something the matter with—"

"Be quiet," Snape hissed. "He's asleep."

Sirius' struggle with his sheets ended abruptly. He squinted against Snape's _Lumos_. "What are you doing in here?"

"I've come for a snog," Snape drawled. He rolled his eyes as Sirius stared at him. "Don't be an idiot. I need to speak with you… without Potter."

Sirius' glance went across the corridor and then back to Snape. Not liking the feeling of the other man towering over him, he shoved the blankets aside and stood. Snape stepped back, waiting with obvious impatience as Sirius tugged his dressing gown on.

"Downstairs?" he asked as he cinched the belt.

"Obviously."

Sirius nodded, paying no mind to Snape's derision. He led the way quietly, looking into Harry's room quickly on the way; he was sound asleep in his bed.

As soon as they were in the kitchen, Snape began erecting privacy spells.

"Harry wouldn't eavesdrop," Sirius protested with a small frown.

"I'd rather not take the risk."

Sirius watched him complete several spells, one hand clutching the opposite elbow lightly, no longer frowning about Snape's lack of trust. "You found something when you were in Harry's head," he said quietly.

Snape pocketed his wand. "A rather unsophisticated description," he said, "but yes."

Sirius' fingers curled around the back of one of the chairs, but he didn't pull it out. "Well?"

Snape's eyes were barely visible for the shadows dancing in eerie patterns across his face. Neither of them had bothered to spell the lamps up.

"I would not go so far as to term it possession," Snape said slowly; gooseflesh prickled up and down Sirius' arms. "The Dark Lord is in Potter's mind; how much of an influence he currently has over the boy, I cannot say—"

"Influence?" Sirius' echo came out scratchy.

"His presence is there, but Potter seems unaware," Snape explained. "I don't think he is being controlled, but it is possible the Dark Lord's presence has made him more susceptible to the influence of dark magic; he has been unusually affected. And I assume his... tetchiness is also due, in part, to whatever influence the Dark Lord is having."

Despite the anxious thrum of his heartbeat, Sirius nodded. Harry had been unduly cranky all night, though Sirius had stupidly believed that he was simply tired—and perhaps still upset about yesterday.

"How can…" Sirius swallowed so that he wouldn't sound quite so panicked. "How can we get him out of Harry's mind?"

"I do not know," Snape said, regret tingeing the words. "If we alert Potter, it stands to reason that the Dark Lord would be alerted as well. And as I do not know how far this influence extends…"

He let the threat loom and Sirius turned away abruptly, with too many emotions too keep them all at bay. His hands were shaking but he did nothing to stop them. He stared out the small kitchen window for a long time, finally turning when he could no longer stand to stay silent. "I have to kill him," he said quietly. "And I need you to help me."

He waited for Snape to sneer at him, or laugh… or perhaps cart him off to St. Mungo's. But Snape did none of those things. The planes of his face stood out at odd angles as the light from his wand cast new shadows. "The Dark Lord," he said in a voice filled with reverence, "would kill a hundred pureblood wizards for your father's library."

Confused, Sirius waited and when Snape offered nothing else, he snapped, "So?"

"I have been studying them for weeks," Snape said, still quiet. "There are spells which would assist you."

Sirius heard himself asking, "What sort of spells?"

"Children's nursery spells, Black," Snape drawled, that sneer making an appearance—along with a fair bit of disgust.

Sirius scowled. "I'm in no mood for sarcasm, Snape."

"Dark spells, of course," Snape spat. "Some of them so dark that they require the spell caster's own death."

Sirius swallowed. "And you think—"

"Not that one," Snape interrupted with an impatient wave of his hand. "But there is a spell," he said, his voice deepening, "which will supposedly return the pieces of one's _soul_ back to its original owner."

Sirius gaped at him. "The Horcruxes…"

"Precisely."

Sirius didn't want to ask more; didn't want to admit that he was already willing to do whatever that particular spell would ask of him. Ever since he and Harry had read Dumbledore's final letter—before they even knew the world had split into two—he knew they were going to have to face this at some point. He hadn't wanted to then, but now—after everything, he wanted to more than anything.

He wouldn't have believed anything could be more important to him than his own freedom. Harry's freedom, though; that was worth everything. "What do I need to do?" he asked.

OoOoOo

Shoulder to shoulder, Sirius and Snape were bent over Arcturus Black's personal spell book; Snape was scrawling notes in the margins.

The spell that Snape wanted to use involved reanimating the victims whose lives had been stolen by Voldemort in his pursuit of eternal life. Creating Inferi—as they would essentially be—was beyond anything Sirius had ever imagined himself doing. And it was becoming more and more difficult for him to ignore the nausea plaguing him, made worse each time he reminded himself that this book had belonged to his own grandfather—and Arcturus had obviously used it often.

"A potion would ensure our success… more reliable," Snape muttered, but Sirius wasn't certain if he was actually speaking to him or just muttering so he continued on with his reading. "I suppose you would object to killing a Muggle?"

Sirius' head jerked up.

"I thought as much…" Snape hadn't even looked at him. His eyes flicked up now. "Who _would_ you consent to kill?"

Sirius' mouth was absolutely dry.

"A Death Eater perhaps?"

"I…"

"No? Every one of the Dark Lord's followers would kill your godson without second thought," Snape reminded him briskly. "They would relish it."

The cruelty in Snape's delivery was entirely uncalculated, but Sirius still had an urge to blacken his eye. "I don't think I can relish killing anyone," he said, rather evenly, all things considered. "Not even Voldemort."

Snape snorted. "That might prove to be a problem once you've cast the Killing Curse."

Sirius wanted to deny that; to claim that he wanted to kill Voldemort more than anything. He wanted Voldemort _dead_ more than anything, yes, but he absolutely wished he didn't have to commit the act himself.

"Perhaps you'd best leave it to me," Snape said smoothly.

Sirius' eyebrows rose. "You think you want to kill him enough?"

The haughty look on Snape's face didn't last long. He scowled and began turning the fragile pages in Arcturus' tome. He abandoned it a moment later however and went back to the shelves, muttering again. "It should be possible to bid the reanimated spirits to do our bidding after they give up the pieces of soul… Ah, yes. Here it is."

"You want the Inferi to kill him?" Sirius had no idea why that sounded more monstrous than murdering Voldemort themselves but the bile rose in his throat at the very idea.

"They are not Inferi; not technically."

"Who in the hell _cares_?"

Snape glanced up from his fervent study of the new text. "You object to their killing the Dark Lord… more than you yourself as the killer?"

Sirius shivered and then wished he wouldn't. "It's my choice to kill him; we can't make someone else do it."

"They are not actually, alive, Black." Snape seemed more concerned than sarcastic. Sirius didn't want concern though; especially not now that he was about to commit unspeakable acts.

"Look," he said impatiently, "I'm not going to pretend I'm being rational, but to ask them—"

"They are merely bodies. Temporary vessels for the pieces of the Dark Lord's soul," Snape said, in such a dispassionate voice that Sirius knew he was just as spooked. He began reading from the book in his hands, "Without lives themselves; their own souls have already been committed to where ever they belong."

As if he no longer controlled his own body, Sirius crossed his arms and tucked his fists into his armpits. "That doesn't make me feel better."

Snape nodded, a jerked movement that Sirius almost missed. "I can think of no other option," he murmured.

So, Sirius did what he had always done as a child, when he could no longer bear the obscenities screeched at him by his mother—or the silence from his father; he carefully sealed his emotions away. "I'll need to ask Remus to stay with Harry," he said. "Perhaps Bill as well. He won't react well—"

"We cannot tell him," Snape interrupted sharply. "Anything Potter hears, the Dark Lord may hear as well."

"I know—"

"I already spelled him to sleep."

Sirius snapped his mouth shut.

"I could not risk his overhearing," Snape defending himself; belligerently.

In light of everything they were about to do, Snape's presumption hardly mattered. But that didn't stop Sirius from saying angrily, "You had no right to do that."

"Do you want to your godson be free of the Dark Lord or not?"

Sirius scowled at him. "How long will the spell last?"

"Until I release him."

Sirius buried the remainder of his irritation—he knew very well it had little to do with Snape anyway. "Send a message along to Remus and Bill," he ordered as he turned to the door. "I'll be right back."

"He will not be aware of your presence," Snape said to his back. Sirius didn't answer. He climbed the stairs quickly, unease rattling his nerves and making it difficult to focus. He made it to Regulus' room anyway. Harry was still asleep and as Sirius stood beside the bed, it was easy to see that the deep rise and fall of his chest was too even to be natural.

He stood there for a long time, every sealed emotion threatening to overwhelm him.

Harry looked peaceful at least, his face relaxed. Without thinking about it Sirius swept his godson's fringe aside with his fingertips. And as he glimpsed the scar, he knew Snape had done right. Harry would fight any plan that put Sirius in danger.

But no matter what danger he would be in, Sirius wouldn't come back until Voldemort was no longer a threat. Knowing he was betraying Harry, Sirius slipped his wand from his sleeve and chanted a Sleeping Spell with as much power as he had. Guilt settled in immediately as he felt it weaving with Snape's, making the spell twice as powerful.

Twice the insurance that Harry wouldn't wake up and find him gone.

Praying that he would be forgiven, Sirius bent and kissed Harry's forehead. "Love you, kid," he whispered. He turned away quickly, without looking back.

Snape was waiting in the parlour with Bill and Remus.

"Thanks for coming," he murmured, grasping both men's shoulders as he approached. "Did Snape explain anything?"

"Just that you needed us to stay with Harry," Remus said.

"I explained that we are putting a plan into action," Snape said from his quiet place beside the fireplace.

Sirius nodded. "We're leaving for several hours, most likely. Harry has been spelled to sleep—with two very powerful spells. Whatever happens," he said, gazing right at them, "do not allow him to leave this house. I don't care what you have to do to make certain of that."

"A force field proved quite useful in keeping him captive a few weeks ago," Snape volunteered as he fastened his cloak. Sirius shot him a glare. Snape's pointed glance did nothing to quell his anxiety.

"If it comes to that," he agreed as he turned back to the Harry's new minders. They glanced at one another, neither one looking particularly put out by the suggestion. "He's in Regulus' room; stay beside him until we return."

"We won't let him out of our sight," Remus said, with Bill nodding his very firm agreement. "Good luck," he added quietly before he and Bill went up the stairs.

"We must finish our preparations," Snape said, already moving back to the library. Nodding, Sirius set his teeth and turned away from the dark stairwell.

_TBC…_

**A/N: A huge thank you to jogger for your help with this chapter and the next. I'd still be staring at a blank screen without it. :o) The next, and final, chapter will hopefully be up later today or tomorrow. I am going to be taking several liberties in regards to canon as the story closes, so I hope you'll enjoy it. Thanks for reading. **


	7. But They Cannot See Me

**Chapter 7: But They Cannot See Me**

_He was suspended in a lazy cushion—the gentle rocking lulling him into peace. The sea stretched on, vast and endless. There was peace in the eternity too. Silence broken only by the gentle swoosh of the streams as lives lived on all around him. Each separate and yet connected to countless thousands. And he didn't have to stop to think about any of them; there were all just there, as they should be. _

_And so Harry was left to his dreams. _

oOoOo

Surrounded by his father's collection of enchanted crystals—meant to represent the Horcruxes—Sirius stood beside Snape, both of them turning slowly as they chanted the ancient string of Latin.

The crystals were pulsing between black and red and finally Snape held his hand up, ending this portion. He nodded at Sirius, who fumbled in his belt for the dagger his grandfather had kept in a locked stone box. The words, _Power to those who seek_, were engraved on the blade. He could feel the thrum of the dark deeds that had touched the blade as he gripped the hilt.

Snape extended his left arm.

Sirius swallowed hard as he watched the snake writhing in the skull, both permanently etched in Snape's skin. The Mark was the only possession of Voldemort's that they could claim.

"Do it," Snape breathed harshly; his fist was shaking.

Sirius' calming breath had no effect. Keeping his hand as steady as he could, he pressed the steel tip into Snape's arm, chanting a new string of Latin as he cut a line through the Mark.

As Snape hissed in pain, Sirius grabbed his bony wrist with his free hand and brought them around the circle, letting blood flow over each of the crystals, both of them chanting once more, over and over again until Sirius was hoarse with it.

He and Snape stood together, blood beginning to congeal as Sirius pulled his crimson-coated fingers from Snape's arm.

The crystals' pulsing slowly began to fade, until only five continued to glow—steady now. All of them as red as the blood staining Sirius' fingers. Together, he and Snape began chanting again, "_Perpetuus Animus_," over and over again. The pulsing red became a vapor, scarlet smoke rising from each of the crystals.

They continued the mantra as the smoke hovered and then with a sharp flick of Sirius' wrist, each column of smoke slithered away, each in a different direction as it sought Voldemort's victims.

Sirius gripped a low tree branch once the smoke was out of sight. He felt weak, unable to hold himself upright. He breathed in and out through his nose, determined not to sick up on the grass. Snape was looking even worse; he'd immediately knelt in the cold grass, his hands and shoulders shaking.

Sirius dropped beside him, found a vial of Strengthening Potion in his cloak and uncorked it. Snape tried to lift his hand; couldn't. So Sirius put the vial to Snape's lips and tipped the contents in. And then they sat there, breathing together.

OoOoOo

_Tremors. _

_Almost imperceptible. _

_He shouldn't have noticed them in between the rhythmic motions rocking him back and forth. His dreams were pleasant enough to keep any disturbances at bay. A girl that looked remarkably like Ginny was walking with him on the grassy Hogwarts' hills. _

_But something else was calling his attention… he was almost certain of it. His dream drifted with him. To a face that looked like his mum's in all the pictures he'd seen. _

_He hadn't dreamed of his mother in years—and usually only accompanied by Voldemort's green light. Mum wanted something from him, but Harry couldn't understand. She didn't smile, spoke no words and then was gone, leaving him flailing. _

_And empty. _

_He tried to turn to find out why. But something was holding him here; the gentle swaying didn't want him to go. He could resist. He almost tried, but the rhythm called to him, soothed him. _

_And so Harry returned to its peace. _

_oOoOo_

The wind picked up as Sirius and Snape tried to find the strength to rise again. The night was moonless, which Sirius found exceptionally appropriate. There was no one to see their sins.

"How long do you think—"

"Impossible to know…"

"They could be in Australia for all we know."

"Yes."

Sirius glanced at Snape, studied the sunken shadows which stood out prominently against ashen cheeks. "Just let me heal you," he said, for the third time, indicating the gash in Snape's arm.

"It is unnecessary."

"You'll bleed out."

A grimace. "Doubtful."

"It's too late to be a martyr," Sirius told him, shifting so that he could grip the stubborn bastard's arm. Sirius ignored the profanity-laced protest and muttered the healing spell as quickly as possible. Snape wrenched his arm away before Sirius could see if it had worked.

Neither one had an opportunity to do more than glare. The wind howled, drawing their attention to the clearing. The branches on the tall trees whipped the air, whistling eerily with each slice.

Gooseflesh prickled the tiny hairs along the base of Sirius' neck.

A soft susurration, as if something was being dragged through the pine needles carpeting the forest floor. Slowly, steadily, it grew louder and as it did, Sirius and Snape found strength enough to stand; held their wands out and waited.

They came together, side by side. A man's body, with skin so pale it was almost translucent. Skin hanging in melted patches from bones that looked like they were missing pieces. A locket on a chain swung from a decomposing neck.

Three women, in increasingly horrific states of death, one with a cup clutched in fingers that were merely bone, another with a diadem resting on the sparse hairs dotting her head, the third brought nothing but her rotting body.

"My god…" Sirius breathed, his legs propelling him backward without his permission.

Beside him, Snape made a choking sound.

"There are only four," Sirius whispered through the bile coating his throat.

Snape came out of his stupor. But before he could speak, the shushing leaves stirred and the fifth wraith glided into the clearing.

Sirius' mouth opened and closed several times. Bald patches on a mouldering head, interrupted only briefly by limp hair; a nose that slid into teeth. And all of it was absolutely familiar.

"Lily…" It was almost a sob, a sound Sirius had never imagined Snape could make. The professor fell to his knees again, his wand limp against the grass. "Lily," he whimpered again, and then fell silent.

Sirius' knees had buckled as well, though he'd managed to keep himself upright as he forced himself to accept this horror. He grabbed Snape's shoulder and shook him; harder when Snape simply rattled beneath his hand.

"Snape! We need cast the final spell!" Sirius dug his fingers into the other man's shoulder. "Snape!"

Haunted black eyes finally met his. "Lily…"

Sirius gripped both shoulders this time, having no choice but to meet the grief and guilt. "That isn't Lily," he said harshly. "Voldemort killed her." Another strangled sob escaped Snape's lips. "He _killed_ her," Sirius said again, unable to stop himself, "and unless you help me, he's going to kill her son. Her son, who you swore to protect."

Light seeped back into Snape's eyes. It was shakily, but Sirius helped him stand.

"The crystals," Snape rasped, turning so that Lily's lifeless body was no longer in his sight. Sirius released Snape's elbow, hoping the other man wouldn't crumble and rearranged the silent crystals in a smaller circle than the original.

Snape's breathing had become rather ragged and it was obviously an effort not to turn back to Lily. So Sirius took care of the reanimated bodies on his own, directing them to form a larger circle around the crystals. Feeling ever more ill as he called upon the darkness now residing in his core to do it.

"Ready?" he whispered to Snape when the Inferi were assembled. He forced himself not to look at Lily either as Snape nodded jerkily.

Two voices blended together as they ordered the master soul to rejoin the pieces which had been torn asunder.

In a swirl of white, the circle captured its prey.

Sirius wasn't prepared for the appearance of the one who had terrorized two generations of wizards. He had no time to adjust to the pale, snake-like creature in front of them though.

"What is this?" Voldemort hissed from a mouth that had no lips. His slitted eyes barely widened as they found Snape. Voldemort immediately raised his wand, but the jet of deadly green light dissipated when it met the crystals' boundary. Voldemort fell back a step, then snarled in fury.

"Now!" Sirius yelped, rooted to the spot in spite of the panic driving his voice higher. And without actual words to compel them, the Inferi did Sirius' bidding. Expressionless, they stepped through the barrier keeping Voldemort caged, their arms raised as if they meant to choke him.

Voldemort eyed them wildly, confusion and anger plain on his distorted face. But then he stilled, his gaze sweeping around the ring of death.

He closed his eyes.

"What's—" Sirius swallowed the rest of his question, grabbing Snape's robed arm and forcibly propelling both of them back. The five bodies had turned, the eyeless sockets trained on a new target.

The wind carried Voldemort's whisper. "_Kill_ them."

oOoOo

_The waves were crashing against his dreams. Trying to destroy Harry's peace. _

_No… it wasn't the entire ocean. _

_Outward, the water stretched. Beyond even what Harry could see. Calm and still. _

_Only beside him, the waters churned. With a violence that he had only experienced once. When the realities had to tried to take Snape. _

_Harry reached out. Two separate streams. One he knew almost as well as he knew himself. _

_And it was dying._

_Harry began to flail, his limbs splashing the water in ever-increasing waves, creating disturbance which dragged him down. Drowning him because he couldn't get out. Something was keeping him here, holding him where he didn't want to stay. _

_Without thought, without effort, Harry gathered the ocean to his bidding, building a wave higher than the wall that kept him from leaving. And with a strength he barely noticed, he sent the wall tumbling down. _

Spiraling, spiraling until there was no more water. Fabric and air as Harry gasped for breath.

"Sirius!" The word echoed, hovering in the space between dream and reality as Harry tried to remember where he was. Regulus' room. Grimmauld Place. He fumbled for his glasses, tumbling out of bed even as he shoved them onto his nose. "_Lumos!_"

Light erupted but Harry tripped before he made it to the door. He gaped down at the two sprawled bodies; Bill and Remus lying in a heap on the floor. He dropped down, grabbed Remus' shoulder and shook it until the older man's eyes fluttered open.

"Harry?"

"What's happening?" Harry demanded. "Where's Sirius?"

Remus didn't answer as he shook Bill awake.

"What the hell happened?" Bill grumbled as he sat up. He squinted at Harry. "Harry? But they said—"

"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked again, shrilly this time. "I could sense him; something's wrong with him!" He couldn't have explained even if he'd wanted to and Remus and Bill looked just as confused as they should.

"How do you know?" Remus asked.

"I just do," Harry said. "Where is he? Snape's with him, isn't he?" Bill and Remus shared a glanced and Harry had his answer. "Where did they go?"

"They had something they needed to do," Remus said quietly, standing and giving Bill a hand up.

"What something?"

"Harry, calm down." Remus took his arm, gripping when Harry tried to shake him off. "You need to trust us… and your godfather," he added. "Sirius wanted you to stay here."

"I can't stay here," Harry said fiercely, tugging harder against Remus' hold but Remus was much stronger. "Sirius is in trouble."

"You can't know that—"

"I do know it! Let _go_ of me!"

"_Harry_—"

Not knowing why he did it, Harry closed his eyes, shutting out Remus' scolding voice as the ocean enveloped him.

_Concentrate. _

It was an echo of Snape's command yesterday, this one without the same harsh quality. Harry focused, dipping his hands in the familiar stream that belonged to Sirius, flinching as it struggled against some darkness that Harry couldn't identify. Snape was tangled up in Sirius' stream.

They were fighting together.

Harry had to go to them.

He breathed deeply and with Remus still gripping his arm, turned the world inside out.

oOoOo

The five wasted corpses advanced, their movements stiff and lumbering, making them all the more terrifying.

"Snape!" There was no reason to shout the other man's name but Sirius did it anyway. Snape was staring at the shell that had once given Lily life. "The Fiendfyre!" Sirius said hoarsely, trying to capture Snape's attention but Snape was lost to everything but Lily's bloodless face.

Snape was supposed to cast the cursed fire. Sirius didn't know how. Had never tried. But the dead were advancing, one of them close enough to touch them.

_Lily_.

Sirius flung Snape away from her decayed claws, falling over his own feet as he tried to follow.

They were going to die. They were going to die right here, and Voldemort would never stop until Harry was dead too.

Panic drove the earlier spells burrowed in Sirius' core upward; churned the dark magic still lingering. Sirius latched onto it, prayed to whatever higher powers that could hear him and shouted the curse.

There was a roaring, billowing, deafening noise as towering flames shot up in front of him. Orange and changing by the second, they writhed in a sickening dance toward Voldemort's minions.

Sirius screamed as it swallowed them up, lighting them from the inside. Fire spilled from Lily's mangled mouth as Sirius watched in horror. Beside him, Snape was screaming as well.

And Voldemort. A cry filled with agony as five pieces of his soul were burned alive.

"Move!" Sirius bellowed, scrambling and falling twice before he gained his feet, dragging Snape along with him. The flames wavered; uncertain who commanded them.

Voldemort screeched again, thrust his wand at the dancing fire and it charged at Sirius and Snape.

And then out of nowhere, in a wavering flash of light, Harry and Remus appeared at the edge of the clearing.

The cursed fire nearly cut Sirius in two as he froze. "Fuck!" Moving now toward them, he shouted, "Get him out of here! Remus, _go_!"

"No!" Harry was still shouting as Remus Disapparated.

His godson's panicked cry echoed in Sirius' ears.

Snape grabbed his wrist; nearly unbalancing him again as Snape turned them around, his wand out as he shot spells at the fire. The spells absorbed into the flames, not one doing any bit of damage.

Voldemort was still trapped in the circle of crystals, but he had his eyes closed as if he was concentrating on the fire and Sirius' decision was made. They had lost. "We need to get out of here!"

"Wait," Snape said as he continued to dodge the flames. "Look at him." Sirius couldn't do that and concentrate on evading the Fiendfyre, but Snape had stopped moving.

"Snape!"

"The fire is dying out," Snape said, grabbing his shoulder and turning him sharply. The fire was still approaching but it was slowing, shrinking.

"That isn't possible—"

"The Dark Lord…" Snape said in a low rumble. "He looks like he can't breathe…."

Sirius turned to look and déjà vu immediately assaulted him. _Remus…_

Voldemort was gasping for air, clutching at his throat just as Remus had done yesterday.

"Potter is attempting to kill him…"

But unlike Remus, Voldemort was fighting back. Drawing in a huge rush of air even as his yellowed fingernails scrabbled at his throat. "No," he rasped. "No!"

And though it should have been impossible, Sirius sensed Harry struggling... and losing.

Fear, magnified above anything he'd felt in the past hours, constricted Sirius' chest.

And in that moment, Sirius found the will.

He watched with a satisfaction that he could neither deny nor escape as the Killing Curse erupted from his wand and hit Voldemort square in the chest.

Voldemort, with his fingers still at his neck, made a last strangled gasp as he fell.

Dark, furious hatred welled up in Sirius then as the stiff body thumped to the ground, disturbing leaves and twigs. He fell to his knees, feeling nothing even as his knee met a jagged rock. His father's dagger was still in his hand. With a cry of rage, he raised it high above his head and plunged it where Voldemort's heart should have been.

And then he slumped, his chest heaving.

"He's dead." Snape's voice was hollow, sounding as if he was meters away instead of kneeling in the grass beside Sirius. Sirius couldn't answer.

A wobbly flash of light made them blink, but neither turned. Footsteps crunched the dead twigs.

"…Sirius?"

Sirius looked up. Relief sent all the air out of his lungs. "Harry..."

His fingers tangled in the hem of his godson's shirt. He tugged Harry down, wrapping him tightly in his arms, deciding in that moment that all of it had been worth it. This was worth every new stain on his soul.

Harry held him just as tightly as he buried his face in Sirius' shoulder.

Sirius pressed a rough kiss to Harry's head, followed by several deep breaths as he tried to still the agitated pace of his heart. And when he thought he could talk again, he glared up at Remus, who was standing above them. "Why did you bring him here?" he demanded, his voice hoarser than he would have liked. "He could have been—"

"I didn't," Remus interrupted in a strange tone. "_He_ brought us; both times. And I have no idea how."

Sirius glanced at Snape; his eyes showed the first signs of life again at that bit of information.

Sirius pulled Harry's head away from his chest. "_You_ Apparated here?" he asked quietly, more than a little fearful of the answer. But Harry shook his head; his eyes were rimmed in red, but he showed no signs of tears.

"I knew you were in danger… I could sense it in your stream. I don't know how, but I just came here…" Harry trailed off, probably because all three men were staring at him with incredulity.

"You could have been killed," Snape said harshly, but he fell just as quickly silent, as if that one statement had used up all he had. Harry turned his eyes back to Sirius, grimacing at whatever he saw in Sirius' face. But there were too many emotions for Sirius to sort out now. He was almost certain some of it was anger, specifically aimed at his godson. It would have to wait.

He took Harry's shoulder and turned him so that both of them were gazing at Voldemort's silent form. "He's gone."

Harry swallowed hard. "I know…"

"We need to call someone," Remus murmured from above them, sounding even more mystified than when he'd arrived.

Sirius nodded. He could hear Remus uttering the spell to send his Patronus out, but he couldn't focus on it. He put an arm around Harry's shoulders; pulled him against his side as he tried to convince himself that his godson was safe.

Harry wound an arm around him, gripping a handful of Sirius' shirt in a trembling fist.

Voldemort was dead.

They were free.

_The End_

**Author's Notes: Thanks again to jogger for her help with this chapter. And thanks to JadeSullivan for her help and encouragement along the way. The story will continue in the final part of the **_**Unforgivables**_** trilogy, ****Avada Kedavra****. If you'd like to read it, please subscribe to my author alert. Thanks for joining me. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. **


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